The Cult of Steve
by Yours The Author
Summary: Feliciano Vargas dreams of the unspeakable. Seeing no other alternative, he contacts the cult that he has yet to take proper charge of and requests their presence at Rome. The Author is being troubled by her sister, who wants her to leave the cult. Then the universe figures, "Eh, why not?" and teleports her and the countries into a rabbit hole of problems and kidnapping and stuff.
1. Prologue

I have returned! *Everyone runs away* No come back; I'm lonely! Aw... Oh well, at least The Reader is still here. Hey welcome back.

I hope you remember me, Yours The Author (Just "The Author", please) and I hope you remember the prequel, "The Cult of Veneziano". If you don't, you'll have to read that first, because chronology is important and messing with it is not nice. I've taken a few days for break; I posted a short dialogue for Homestuck if you'd like to read that when you're done, and I got three out of five bells for Animal Parade. Harvest Moon logic is thoroughly irritating, but it's satisfying to hear those bells ring. (Come _on_ , Ben, how could you forget the bell's melody? That is _literally_ your only purpose in life. Finn should have your job; he'd be better at it than you!) Ahem... Video game frustrations aside, I worked out this little piece of story in about two hours. That might show, so tell me if I can improve! Now, without further ado:

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own Hetalia or HetaOni. They belong to their respective owners and their creative abilities are admired and appreciated.

 **Trigger**

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

Prologue

Dreams have been contemplated for many years. Some say they are mere repetitions of the previous day's events. Others say they are the subconscious revelation of a solution to the problem you've had for perhaps quite a long. Stills others say that they are images of the future gifted by spirits. Most of the images are forgotten in the human mind as we wake up in the earliest hours of the morning; our sleep crusted eyes just missing said visiting spirits and the insects who watch your slumber. If anyone asked Feliciano Vargas what dreams were for, he would probably tell them that they were the flare signal to the worst weekend ever.

Feliciano was on the floor. He didn't remember falling asleep on the floor, but after the entire mansion incident he was so relieved he'd often sleep anywhere. The psychologists were wondrous, but that's not important to the situation of being on a floor. He felt as though his arms were rubber, dripping onto the ground around him and on the chains on his wrists. His head ached as if he had done nothing put lie around and take siestas all day. His stomach was empty. The room was dim and flickered with the firelight from a small bonfire before him. He was the only one there, but eyes seemed to peer through the darkness at him. He hadn't felt so watched since he entered the mansion for the second time.

A woman stepped behind the fire and looked at him facelessly. She was a tall, gangly ice sculpture with a posture that commanded, "Do as I say, when I say it." She was dressed in 1500's northern European dress: a long dark gray dress with a V-neck that revealed a solid black kirtle. Her hair was straight and wooden brown. She regarded him as one would regard the growing of grass.

The fire separated them. It licked and slathered at the bottom of a witches pot, black as obsidian. The woman stepped closer the pot. "Smettere…" Italy said. "Per favore…" The woman gripped at the rim of the pot. Her hands burned and her face twisted with pain, but she held fast. The void behind her seemed to flicker light gray reflections. The woman took a deep breath, pushed herself up, and got into the pot. She sank almost immediately. The pot seemed only two feet deep, but she was flushed beyond the bottom, hands outstretched and expressing what her melted mouth could not.

The reflections on the other side of the fire grew stronger and solid. Dread sank its fangs into Feliciano's heart. The solid gray matter sneered and whispered, **YOU… WON'T… ESCAPE…**

 ** _Dream Skip Time Skip Line Break Thingy_**

"Fratello, wake up!" Feliciano sat up in bed and shoved at the ropes holding him down. "Fratello, it's me! Get up!" Feliciano opened his eyes and stared into a pair of olive orbs. Feliciano realized the ropes were just the hands of his brother, Lovino. Lovino glared down at him with a reverse crease in his brow. "Whatever the heck that was, it's gone. It's gone." He hugged his little brother and patted his back. Feliciano stared at the opposite wall of his bedroom. It was light outside, but it was way too early for the Italian brothers liking. The sheets on their king sized bed were wrinkled and pulled onto to Feliciano's side. He took a few deep breaths and slowly faced his older brother. Lovino looked at him in concern. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Feliciano whispered. "And I don't want it to happen."

"What on Earth-?"

"We need to call them."

Lovino frowned. _Only in case of an emergency,_ she had told them. Feliciano had taken those words very seriously, and refused to call anyone no matter how bad the nightmare. This meant the other nations had to tell their psychologists, who would tell his psychologist, who would tell him, once again, that his number was different from her number and that it was perfectly fine to call him for nightmares. "If you think we need to…" Lovino said slowly.

"We need to." Feliciano repeated. He sat up in bed and reached for his phone on the nightstand. He murmured the numbers as he pressed the buttons and held the phone to his ear, Lovino watching more worriedly than he'd like to let on. "Ciao, Brittany Davis? It's Feliciano Vargas. I need the Cult of Veneziano to come to my meeting place for an emergency. Today."

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

Roll credits! And that's the end of the prologue. What do you think? Not too shabby for a two hour's scrap job, eh?

Remember how great those near daily updates were with the prequel? Sorry, I don't think I'll be able to do that this time. Unlike the last story, I haven't thought about this one in a long time. I have some basic groundwork, but it's been so long (since at least last summer) that my plans for the plot are extremely vague. On the plus side, I have a sort of map thing of which stuff to include in each chapter! That'll probably change, as there's probably more stuff in each plot point that the space on the page gives credit for. I'm worried that if I write each chapter in a day and then post it, it'll be under the par that I assume most of you expect from me. I know I should try to keep a consistent schedule (how on Earth does Rick Riordan [who I don't own] write a new installment for a story with that much detail and interwoven plot connections in the course of a year? How does Andrew Hussie [Who I also don't own] do the same in a course of a few months, for that matter? I swear they're able to slow down time for themselves so they can do it at their own pace! Oof!) but I am lazy, probably more so than the last updates would make you think! So I need all of the hard critique, guys. It's the best way you can help and the only way I can learn.

So please leave me a review and tell me what you think. Who's that mysterious lady? Why'd she jump into a pot of something that was clearly going to kill her? Are there others involved? Of course there are. It's called "The Cult of Steve". I'm pretty sure cults have more than one person in it. So yeah, no suspence there; I'll just tell you she's a member of that cult. But what is the purpose of bringing the monster back? (Yeah, I think you could all guess that was what they were doing.) Will I ever stop telling you things that could be considered spoilers. Only if you make me. If you don't like it, you have to tell me in a review. Otherwise I'll keep doing and unknowingly hurt your feelings. So leave a review, look at my profile and other stories, and I'll see you when I figure out how to be a competent author. Until then!


	2. Chapter 1: Trying to Try

*A pair of blue eyes peers through the dark of night. Glasses gleam in the moonlight. Suddenly, a shape leaps into the open and proclaims, "I have returned!"*

So hey I'm back. Yay. I've been away for a while, I know, but I have a sort of excuse. Well two, but whatever. One: This chapter was a bit difficult to write. Even after revising it, I hate it with a couple of fibers in my being. Nothing gets done, the description is poor, and the character actions feel shoddy. I even named the chapter as a reflection of how poor it is. So give me all the criticism you can; I need it for real this time. I mean, I always need it, but I really, really need it now.

And B (Yes I'm aware I originally started this with numbers): One of my new summer goals is to complete every story mode on Mario Party 4 (Which I don't own). Mario Party 4 is the best Mario Party. It's fun and comfortable but not loud and obnoxious, the music is softer and not blaring, the character voices are soft and not annoyingly screamy. (Yes, Microsoft, I know that's not a word. Also I don't own that.)And there's actual motivation to be the characters you don't like, because you get presents! (I've completed Mario and Wario now, so only six more people to go! Also, I don't own them.)

So anyway, I'm writing my Author's Notes on the document and not adding it when I copy and paste because a lot of things got left out of the last part, namely the trigger warnings. So here they are:

 ** _Trigger Warning:_** Contains violence, magic, some death (mostly background characters we don't know or people I hope you hate) and kidnapping. Also, science.

One last thing, since you're probably itching to get started, you probably noticed my description of the the mysterious woman from Feliciano's dream, namely her clothes. I don't know about that stuff. I had to do research. RESEARCH! You'd better recognize how hard I work for this. Yeah, I know, I'm complaining, whatever. On with the story!

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

Chapter 1: Trying to Try

I wiped my brow and sighed. It was getting warmer. Summer was almost here. My calf and duck padded around the mostly empty field, nipping at the grass in content. I looked at my strawberries and grunted at their size. I hadn't thought they'd take this long to grow. They'd be dead when the summer sun rose for the first time. At least I could get corn in the summer. Tomatoes and corn would probably regrow, so I could keep up a much more consistent profit. Suddenly, my little brother appeared and asked, "Hey, can I use the Wii now?"

I looked at him through half lidded eyes from my position on the couch. "I'm kind of busy, bruder."

"But you've been on all day!"

"You've been on the computer all day."

"That's different."

I muttered how it wasn't that different as I saved my Harvest Moon game and handed him the remote. I got up and stretched, my red hair unkempt and shedding all over my shorts and T-shirt. I glanced out one of the windows and saw that the doodle-thing-flag on the mail box was down, meaning the mail had come. _Why not_ , I thought. _I might as well go outside for three minutes. Look at me, doing exercise and stuff._ I put on some flip flops and walked into the humid heat. There'd been yet another thunderstorm last night, not that I minded too much. Sure, they sometimes knocked down trees and power lines, but it was a nice sound to be lulled to sleep by.

The mail box was empty, save for a small white envelope. I pulled it out and noticed my title, The Author, stamped in solid black ink. No address or stamp… I turned it over to make sure. It seemed certain; this was a letter from the cult of Veneziano.

I hadn't heard a word from them since after we had blown up the mansion over two weeks ago. My only contact had been my best friend and moirail, The Artist. Whenever we crossed paths we would talk about it briefly. Oddly enough, my older sister, The Vet, never seemed to want to talk about it.

Not bothering to go back inside and freeze in the air conditioning, I opened the letter with my finger and pulled out the letter, which I thankfully did not cut in half. Plain stationary with words typed in black ink, just like last time. A small wax seal at the bottom in the shape of a white flag crossed under a fork caught my attention, though. I read quietly,

"Dear 'The Author',

This is an important message that you must respond to immediately. Feliciano Vargas contacted us this morning, asking that the entire cult gather at his meeting place for an emergency meeting. He will explain the full story when we all arrive. The meeting place is located in Rome, Italy, and the meeting will begin at 11:03 AM."

 _That's an odd time,_ I thought. _Shouldn't it be at a more even number, like 11:30? Oh well, not my jurisdiction, I guess. Wait, what time is it?_ I hurried back into the house. The clock in the kitchen read 11:10. "I missed it!" I hissed worriedly. I looked at the letter frantically, thinking, _Oh no, I'm going to be in so much trouble! Everyone's going to be mad!_

"We will personally pick up each member via a magical blimp. If we do not arrive at some time before the meeting time stated, there is a wax symbol of the cult that will take you outside the meeting place. You will be allowed in as long as you keep the letter. Probably even if you don't, but Brittany wanted to make this seem threatening and serious or whatever. We look forward to seeing you.

Signed,

Damian Royston."

 _Oh thank goodness!_ I sighed in relief. I was about to press the symbol when I thought of something. Would my brother wonder where I'd gone? And what about my parents?

I stepped into the room my brother was in. My brother was reclined in a chair, playing Brawl. "Hey, bruder? If anyone asks—and don't worry, no one will ask—but if they do, tell them Arty invited me over to her house for a while, okay?"

"Okay," he said, not so much as glancing away from the screen.

I hurried into my bedroom and closed the door and blinds. Probably wouldn't be a good idea to let a neighbor see me vanish into a cloud of sparkles and what have you.

I looked at the letter again and frowned. The last time I got a letter like this, I ended up killing monsters, wearing uncomfortable clothing, and being a hero. That was all well and good, and it was something I felt sort of proud to be a part of, but it all just felt so heavy. But I couldn't not show up; that would probably be rude.

I sighed and pressed the wax seal. I could feel something encircling me, warm and cold at the same time, like a tepid bath. I closed my eyes and thought, _what on Earth could be so dire as to need an emergency meeting? I guess I'll have to find out…_

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

Good grief that ending was bad. I really don't like this chapter. I know I already told you, but it's so short and boring and argh. Hopefully, next chapter should be better since stuff will happen for sure, but I won't take up space since I'm sure the notes are longer than the chapter. Please review, tell me what you think, and check out my profile. Until then!


	3. Chapter 2: Trying to Avoid Problems

Happy Fourth of July! It's a day of fireworks and remembrance, as I'm sure every other independence day is. Now _this_ is a chapter I can say I'm proud of. Detail was a very key point as you will see in the first half or so of this chapter. Also, I never mention it directly in the story, but this takes place in the Palace of Justice in Rome, Italy. I was originally looking for buildings and architectural styles so I could make a generic meeting place, but then I came across this building, and seemed poetically perfect for the setting. I fear my descriptions may not have done it justice, though, and I had to make some wide conclusions for what the inside looks like, so it's probably inaccurate. My apology for not making it as it is. If you ever get the chance, see this building for yourself! It's quite elegant and masterful.

Also, argh, canon characters. I'm probably going to need help next chapter with writing in character. It's just so many characters to keep track of; I don't know how Andrew Hussie does it! Also be prepared for back and forth dialogue.

Before we begin, a list of things I don't own: Italy (any of it), Hetalia, HetaOni, Pokémon, Nintendo, Google, Google Maps, Wikipedia, and Star Wars. Now, on with the show!

* * *

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

Chapter 2: Trying to Avoid Problems

In a few words, I would refer to Rome, Italy as a mass of gold-brown architectural masterpieces. Buildings rose into the morning sky, many with domed roofs and sculpted statuettes. Each was a cake that had yellowed beautifully from its original white, with columns lacing the entrances of the largest ones.

I stood on a slightly elevated piece of concrete, facing traffic and what must have been a castle at one point. It was three stories high, each window set inwards like pockets decorated with many well-worn designs. The Italian flag waved high and proud. I looked at the two fountains on either side of the stairs. I was going to get lost.

I stepped onto the walkway cautiously. Some men and women in suits checked their phones in agitation, glancing occasionally at the road. It seemed no one noticed my appearance. The light turned green and the cars slowly stopped. I hurried across the road and gazed up at the building. It opened its maw and offered to swallow me whole.

I walked through the central door, glancing around and rubbing my hands. The building's interior was more or less what I expected; cold, crisp, and methodical. The ceiling was far above, supported with thick, sturdy columns. It wasn't quite as worn or detailed as the outside, but one could have turned the building inside out and I would have thought it still elegant. Wait…

 _Where am I?_ I thought. Was this the right building? And if so, which way would I go? If it wasn't right, where was I supposed to be? "Um," I glanced around awkwardly in the middle of the floor. Business people hurried by, unaware of my predicament. No one to help out. I'd have to figure this out on my own.

I inched toward a security guard, hoping he'd notice. "Um," I said quietly. He didn't see me. "E-excuse me?" I asked in a louder voice. He blinked and looked down at me with a cock of his head. _I don't speak Italian._ I thought. "I'm sorry," I said slowly. "Do you know where Feliciano Vargas is? I have a meeting with him." _Would Italy tell normal people his human name? Would this person know where he is? Does he even know what I'm saying?_

"Si," he said suddenly. I jumped a bit at his base tone. He gestured at the stairs behind him. "Follow, per favore." He walked heavily up the stairs, and I followed. We hurried through long hallways that extended into a maze of doors, stairs, and more hallways. The drone of voices from the entrance faded and ceased. We went up and down, left and right, until those words lost their meaning.

He stopped in front of a plain wooden door with a sign hanging from the brass knob. The sign had a lot of cursive Italian that looked like ink pasta was stamped on a card. The only words visible were "Feliciano Vargas" somewhere in the middle. I looked at the security guard, who nodded politely at me before going whence we came. I was alone again, not even the white noise of the city there to comfort me. I carefully turned the knob, trying not to make noise in case the meeting had started. I gasped.

The door frame was cut in half, my side normal and brown. The other side, and the room behind it, glowed white and wavered slightly like pond ripples. There were doors in a small hallway, warped and shaded black and white. It was exactly like the connection tree thing from Pokémon Black and White, but not on a bridge. I gingerly reached out to touch it. My hand slipped through as if nothing was there. It felt warm and sort of familiar. My hand curled around in the glimmer. I removed my hand and clenched it. Seeing my hand was fine, I took a deep breath and walked through the doorway, and I remembered where I'd felt the warmth.

It blew into me quickly before leaving as if it had never occurred. I shivered at the new coldness, my eyes closed. When I'd gotten the first letter, I had felt this start in my chest and spread slowly, but this was faster and more immediate. I opened my eyes and looked around. The color was normal. Nothing moved mysteriously. I looked behind me, the way I'd come a reflection of what I had seen from the other side.

I was adjusting my glasses when I noticed my hand was anime. I jumped and looked at myself. I was still wearing my black shorts, gray T-shirt, and plain flip-flops. My hair was not brushed and stuck out like static. I looked in a mirror that hung on the wall. The curls were there. That was odd. I thought about reaching up and touching them, but remembered how violently people acted when I tried. No one every explained it to me. Oh, wait, I'm late!

The hall was maybe ten feet long, a door on the opposite side of the mirror and one at the halls end. The middle door had a sign reading "Waiting Room" on it. I opened it and peered in. It was empty, save for a few chairs and tables. I shut the door and checked the last room.

It was large and mostly empty. A table in the shape of capital U was surrounded with unoccupied chairs. The floor was dark, thin carpet verses marble, and the walls were windowless and plain. Practical over fanciful, it seemed. I sighed worriedly. _Is it over already?_ I thought.

"Hey, who're you?" a voice called loudly. I jumped and looked left like a deer in the headlights. A few people stood off to the side and they were—

"Oh, goshums," I mumbled. The countries looked at me expectantly, Lovino Vargas at the lead. I shuffled into the room, trying not to look right at them in case they were angry. "Hi," I said quietly as I looked at their shoes. _Nice shoes,_ I thought. _Very comfortable looking._ "Did I miss it?"

"Hey, look at us when you say something, ragazza." I looked at the ceiling behind Lovino's head. _What a lovely ceiling,_ I thought.

"Oh, Lovi, don't be mean," Antonio Fernández Carriedo chided the Italian. "She's shy, that's all."

"I told you not call me that!"

"Excuse me," Kiku Honda stepped toward me. "You are… The Author, yes?"

"Ah, yes," I stood up straight and bowed stiffly. "H-hello."

Kiku bowed politely. "Hello. I'm sorry for the unusual introductions."

Alfred F. Jones looked at me sheepishly. "Yeah, that wasn't cool of us."

I rubbed the back of my head and looked away. "No, it's fine, it's my fault for being late and all…"

"Late?" Ludwig looked at the watch on his wrist. "I believe you are early."

I frowned and pulled out my letter. "No, I'm definitely late." I held it out to them. "By over thirty minutes." Ludwig took the letter and read through it, Arthur Kirkland and Gilbert Beilschmidt looking over his shoulder.

"I thought the meeting wasn't for a few more minutes," Yao Wang said, looking at Ivan Braginski.

"Da, I was told the same." He replied. Mathew Williams waved at me shyly from behind Kumajiro. I waved back and regarded Francis Bonnefoy next to him, who smiled warmly at me.

"That is odd," Arthur said. He looked at me curiously. "I was certain that the correct meeting time was-"

"WHERE. HAVE. YOU. BEEN!?" I was whipped around and shaken at a rate that made me say "Aah-aah-aah."

Someone pulled me back and I shook my head dizzily. "Vet?" I mumbled. Her hair was messy and her clothes were a tad sloppy, but still fancier than anything I'd wear. And boy was she mad.

"You didn't leave a note or a message, just walked off the face of the Earth! Do you have any idea how worried I was? We were looking for a half hour before someone noticed that you used the emergency button. Didn't you read the letter? How could you-!"

"Bloody heck, calm down!" Brittany got between us and glared at Vet. "It's not that much of problem; we've found her and that's what counts."

Vet had issues with her too, apparently. "This is the kind of thing I was talking to you about! I'm not going to let things like this happen!"

"And they won't," Brittany turned to me. She was out of her casts now, and she had the same leader like posture she'd had when we first met. "If you could be so kind as to tell us why you didn't wait for us, Author?"

A crowd of cult members squeezed into the room, some saying, "Oh, there she is." And "Hey, did you see Venice from the blimp?"

"The letter said the meeting started at 11:03 AM, and it was seven minutes after that when I got it. I thought I was late." I looked between her and my sister. "Also, what's this about things and happenings?"

"What?" Brittany said. "Where's the letter? Let me see."

"Ludwig has it." I turned around and Ludwig quickly handed me the letter.

"Vet, let me have yours." Vet handed Brittany her own letter. Brittany compared the two, eyes flicking between them. "She's right; that is what it says." I looked over her shoulder. The one addressed to Vet read "11:30 AM".

"A misprint." The Vet said. "This whole thing was because of a misprint."

"That is a bit peculiar." Brittany studied me. "Have things like this been happening? A lot?"

"Things like what?" I asked.

She pointed at the letter. "Have you been seeing or hearing things? Visions, perhaps?"

"What-?"

"Has time been acting strangely to you? What about space? Do you have dreams? Have incidents like—"

Vet pulled me away from her. "Stop it," she snapped. "I don't want you treating her like a test subject."

"Whoa, what?" I said.

"Dudes, can you not? That'd be cool." The Artist popped up behind me.

"Arty!" I cheered. "What's going on? Save me!" I waved my arms dramatically.

"Alright!" Brittany held up her hands. "Let's just calm down. We came here for a meeting, not a standoff."

I noticed that most of the others had sat down already, and we were just standing there like weirdos. "You guys aren't telling me something. What's going on?"

Brittany sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's all rather convoluted, but the short of it is—"

"I want you to quit this cult. Both of us." Vet interrupted.

Everything went quiet. I couldn't tell if people were listening, and right then I didn't care. "…What?" I said. "Leave the cult? Vet, no, why?"

"I've been thinking about it for a while," she said. "After we met at the café. I knew how you didn't feel comfortable with having to fight, and I was going to ask Brittany to make an exception and let you leave when the code orange happened. Then I lost you in the crowd, I had no idea where you were… I was scared that something terrible happened. And then today, even though you were okay, it just proves my point. I don't want you doing this."

"Vet…" I said.

"I vouched for you, Author." Brittany stated.

"You did not," Vet said angrily. "You only wanted her to be your little research pawn!"

"I can figure her out if I just see her in action; please, just give this a chance!"

"No!"

"Excuse me?" I said.

"She's leaving the cult! That's the end of it!"

"Just a minute!"

"Excuse me!" I said louder. They were in each other's faces and yelling loudly. Everyone was looking now, and it seemed some people were making bets.

I looked frantically at Arty, who papped my shoulder before turning toward them. "I got this," she said darkly. I stepped away slowly, looking from Vet to Brittany to Arty and back again. Why was this happening? I stepped farther away, thinking, _it's hard, but I like being in the cult! I don't want to leave or be an experiment! I don't!_

I bumped into a chair and realized I was at the table. Everyone was on the other branch of the U, and all of them were looking at the fight. The countries were too busy looking like they didn't know what to do. No one was watching. I crawled under the table and hurried to the opposite side of the room. Just in time.

"WOULD YOU BOTH SHUT UP!?" I heard Arty scream. "No one is going to do anything to anyone! The two of you need to stop and think for once! Author's not leaving the cult, and she's not going to be studied!"

"And just what makes you so sure?!" Vet and Brittany yelled.

"Because you're not thinking about what she wants. She decides what happens, not you two. If she wants to stay, she'll stay; if she doesn't want to be tested, she won't. It's as simple as that. Let's just ask her great-where-did-she-go?" I huddled under the table and pretended to be a piano.

"You've got to be kidding me," Brittany said.

"Author, come out, now!" Vet called. I said nothing.

"Way to go; you scared her." Arty said. Then she said loudly. "If we could all split into groups and look for The Author, it would be greatly appreciated. Sorry, countries. And I'm not done with you two. When we find Author, we'll talk, not that she'd want to talk to either of you." People groaned and grumbled, but I saw feet walk away. I stayed under the table and studied the carpet. It was one of those reverse moments where you wanted to cry, but didn't. I laid on my side, curled into a fetal position, and covered my face. _Everything is stupid,_ I thought at the table. The table thought nothing, because it was a table.

The room was quiet now. Everyone was gone. Except for a moirail. Arty poked her head under the table. "Hey," she said.

"Hi," I replied shakily, removing my hands.

"What're you doing?"

"I am now a table monster."

"May I join you?"

"Please do." I patted the floor randomly. Arty crawled under the table and copied my position. We stared at each other for a while.

"So," she said.

"So," I replied.

"Did you hear that the new season of Hetalia is coming soon?"

"No way, seriously?"

"Yep."

"Awesome."

 ***Meanwhile, elsewhere***

Gilbert rubbed his head. "Are you alright, sir?" Casey asked quietly. Brittany was still steaming.

"I'm fine, Kitz, I just feel… a disturbance…" he looked behind him. "I think she's back that way."

 ***Now, back to relevant things***

"So you're in a room with Princess Peach and Daisy. You have to pick one of them, the other will die. Who do you choose?"

"No, bad Arty, I like them both."

"I wonder if you like anyone else."

"It depends on the game." We were now some of the coolest table monsters under the table. Arty talked about everything irrelevant to the meeting and everything relevant to us. Good moirail. Best friend.

A door opened and we could hear a lot of people come in. "Dang it, they're back." I muttered.

"Shoosh," said Arty.

"And now The Artist is gone. This is just perfect." Brittany's voice whined.

Vet replied, "This wouldn't be happening if—wait a second." There was a pause. "Did anyone look under the table?" Silence. "No one? Not _one_ person thought of that?"

Arty and I looked up just as Brittany checked under the table. She sighed in exasperation and stood up. "They're under here." Vet grumbled some not nice words and we watched her feet walk toward us.

"Author, come out from under the table. You too, Artist."

"We can't," I said loud enough for her to hear.

"Why not?"

"We're table monsters. You can join us if you want."

"No."

"Nyeh."

"Author, get up."

"First say sorry."

"No, please leave the cult with me."

"No. It's a little intimidating, but I like what I do and the people here. If you want to leave, then I give you permission to do so."

"Well, I don't give you permission to stay." I said nothing. "Author, please."

"She said no," said Arty.

"You're not a part of this, Artist."

"Yeah she is." I said.

"Look," said Brittany. "Can we just agree to do this later? Mr. Vargas and company have been very patient and we're long overdue for the meeting." Someone coughed.

"Okay…" I groaned. Arty rolled her eyes and crawled out from under the table. I followed suit, standing up when I was able.

Being in a position like that for a while can cause blood to rush to your head and make you feel dizzy. I am no stranger to this phenomenon. As I tried to balance myself, I fell onto someone who caught and righted me. I was about to thank them when I felt something wrong. My gasp was cut short. I couldn't move. I thought my limbs were baking. I heard someone shriek, but everything was churning and going white around me. Someone might have yelled my name, but it might have just been the universe getting a kick out of this. _Oh,_ very _funny,_ I thought as white crumbled and became black.

* * *

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

Drama, much? I may have gone a bit over the top. But hey, at least a bunch of stuff got done this chapter!

I'd like to make a shout out to rwbygirl for giving me an insight on which parts of my stories my readers might enjoy. That's the sort of review I've been looking for. Thank you.

Seriously did a bunch of research for this chapter. Spent the better part of yesterday researching and writing. But I really, **_REALLY_** need help with writing people in character next chapter. I'll try some of my own research, but for the majority of the story it's going to be me, some characters that will mostly as good as flat, and the countries. That's a lot of people to know about! I have to make sure that each character gets a say without making it seem like I'm just rotating them. Any advice would be really great! (nudge wonk at rwbygirl) So leave me a review, tell me what you think will happen, and look at my other stories. Until then!


	4. Chapter 3: Trying not to Fail

Hey I'm back yay. Sorry for taking so long, this chapter gave me a lot of issues. I don't know if it's that I'm not good at having to use a lot of characters, or if the situations in this chapter were a lot choppier on paper than in my head, or what. But it's finally done. There was a lot of editing and frustration, but it's don't.

You'd better recognize how hard I work… by leaving a review! Yeah, I know, I'm pressuring you, but even a smiley face would suffice at this point. Shouting out again to rwbygirl for being a lamb. She's a lamb. You're not. Also, shout out to klariz anime for favoriting the Cult of Veneziano. Now, if we can get that review box to work…

But in all seriousness, thank you for your patience. As I'm sure you can guess from the chapter title, nothing good will come of this. (Keep in mind, trying is not the same as learning.) Enjoy using Google Translate (which I don't own), and I'll see you at the bottom of the page.

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

Chapter 3: Trying not to Fail

I will reiterate that life sucks sometimes. You probably remember my spiel about life sucking from the Cult of Veneziano book. The same logic applies here, as well as everywhere.

When my eyes stopped moving left and right like in the cartoons, I identified the person I'd fallen on as Mr. Feliciano Vargas. _How the heck did I of all people manage to bump into him?_ I thought. Feliciano rubbed his temples and blinked his lovely brown eyes. _What curious eyes,_ I thought. _They're rather like salted caramels. Wow, I'm hungry._ He stopped swaying and looked down at me. He was almost my height, just a bit taller, and dressed in a plain gray suit with a blue tie. "Ve, bella? What happened?" he asked.

"I don't know, Mr. Vargas. Does this happen often?"

"You can call me Feli, bella, and no, it doesn't."

"Feli… alright. And please just call me Author." (Now I don't have to spell his name out! Phew!)

More groans. We turned to see eleven other nations shaking their heads. Everyone was dressed semi formally in a suit or similar clothes in varying colors. Proper attire for a meeting. No one was safe.

Lovino recovered from his stupor the fastest and immediately went to Feli's side. "What the heck happened?" He glared at me. "You better have an answer, kid!"

I leaned away and raised my hands to calm him. "I swear, Mr. Vargas, I don't know what happened."

He frowned before muttering, "Lovino," and turning away to check on his little brother.

Arthur was looking around. "Where are we?" he asked.

I turned to where he was looking. Everything was still anime, probably because of the weird border logic of alternate universes. "I'm not sure—wow," I said. We all stood on stretch of dark concrete that went on for miles in each direction and separated the country from the city.

Have you ever been to Vancouver, Canada? It's a beautiful place. The buildings reach into the sky, structural in modern design, and glimmer blue and gold. They call it the City of Glass, and seeing it anytime of the year is a wonderful thing. The city on our left was just like that, but so much bigger.

Each building ascended to what looked to be at least forty floors each. Most were about twenty huge panes of glass wide. Oddly enough, there were fewer cars and more walkers, though no one appeared to be interested in coming our way. Some buildings were more like what you'd see in smaller cities: shorter, made of stone or wood, and dark, housing pubs and bars and the like. All the way on the other side of this metropolis, I thought I could see pointed cone peaks of some building that rose just above the town.

On our right, the forest was just as impressive. Thick trees stood as tall and sturdy as the buildings, and seemed so tightly placed together it was almost a wall of woods. Their green leaves branched and twined together, and I got the sense that we were in a gated community of sorts.

"It's beautiful," I breathed. "It's just like Vancouver!"

"You've been to my country?" Mathew squeaked. It appeared that Kumajiro had not come along for our magical ride of hope and wonder.

"It certainly is an architectural accomplishment," Ludwig said. "But that doesn't answer the question of where we are."

I looked at the people wandering about the town. The streets were in a grid pattern, as one could expect, and a few feet of road connected each line in the grid to our concrete border line like a beautifully precise piece of graph paper. Looking more closely at the locals, a variety of hair colors greeted me. A majority of them, though, seemed to be light blonde, almost white…

"We could totally ask that newspaper guy," Alfred said as he pointed at a man standing behind a small table covered in papers. The few people who walked past him paid him no mind, and he seemed as if he'd rather be in the low brick pub across the street.

"Anyone have any money?" I asked. Alfred pulled out a few bills. "Awesome."

Gilbert rubbed his head and winced.

"Are you okay?" I asked worriedly.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I just feel weird when you say that."

"What, awesome?"

"Ja, that's it. Urgh. It's not an awesome feeling, but I suppose it's awesome to know that you were the one to cause that disturbance."

"Um, disturbance, sir?"

"Never mind, let's talk about it later. Hey, look, a newspaper stand."

We made our way on the road to the man. He glanced dully in our direction as we approached.

Ivan looked at the papers. "This appears to be German," he said. "But I could be mistaking it for stupidly spelled English."

"Hey!" Alfred, Arthur, and Gilbert cried in unison. Ivan chuckled at them.

I examined one of the newspapers. " **Kanzler wird mit der Herzogin treffen in dieser Woche** " the headline read. I knew of few of the words. "Something... will with the something... meet in this week." I translated.

"You're not too far off," Ludwig said. He was reading over my shoulder. "It says, 'The Chancellor will meet with the Duchess this week.' It doesn't say what for, though." He picked up the newspaper to read it further, but the man smacked his hand and made a shooing motion.

"Geld zuerst, dann können Sie zu lesen," he said in an annoyed tone. He spoke a bit too quickly for me to translate. Something about money and being able to do something. Germany sighed and pulled a few Euros out of his pocket before handing them to the man. He was about to put the money away when he examined it further. He flipped the coin and checked both sides. Then he looked that the edges. He glared at Ludwig and threw his money on the ground.

"Oi!" said Ludwig.

"Was ist das?" The man yelled. A few passersby looked curiously in our direction. "WAS IST DAS!? Ich sagte, Geld, Dummkopf, Geld! Nicht diese gefälschte Münzen!"

"Aiyah!" Yao said, leaning away from the furious man.

Francis looked the way we'd come. "Perhaps we should try elsewhere, oui?" he said.

Gilbert was yelling at the man, "Das sind echte Euro!"

"Das ist nicht unsere Währung!" the man yelled back, his face turning an ugly red. "Ich will deutschmarks!"

 _Deutschmarks?_ I thought. _That was Germany's currency, but not anymore._ More people were looking in our direction as if considering calling the police to stop the weird foreign robbers from stealing from this poor newspaper guy. I needed to calm him down, if no one else would. _There's a phrase…_ I thought. "Bitte!" I said, raising my hands and stepping towards the man. "Immer mit die Ruhe!" The man stopped yelling and looked at me. _I must have said it wrong,_ I thought as I bit my lip. The man suddenly gasped and hurried out from behind the stand, rushing at me. I yelped and stumbled back.

He threw himself down at my feet and cried, "Es tut mir leid, Herzogin Katharina!"

"What?" I said. This guy was straight up bowing before me. "Um," I looked at the countries and whispered, "I don't know what he's doing." They seemed just as befuddled. "Excuse me," I knelt down to talk to him. "Or, Entschuldigen Sie, sorry," He looked up in confusion. "Ich denke… um, du—Sie sind…" I looked helplessly at the German brothers. "What's the word for mistaken?"

"Allow me," said Ludwig. He stepped forward and addressed the man, "Entschuldigen Sie. Wir denken , Sie irren Sich, Herr . Wir nicht wissen , wer Herzogin Katharina ist."

"Sprechen Sie Englisch?" I murmured hopefully. The man looked between me and Ludwig.

"Sie sind nicht Herzogin Katharina?" He asked me warily.

"Nein, es tut mir leid," I replied.

"Your accent is very good," Ludwig complimented.

The man stood and brushed the dust off of his clothes. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and walked down an alley way behind the stand. "I doubt that's proper protocol," I said. "Besides, someone could just take one of these papers without paying. We should probably go get him, or—" Alfred picked up one of the papers and hurried to the other side of the street. "That too. We can just do that too." Mathew mumbled something about stealing as Ludwig finished picking up his coins. We hurried to meet Alfred, who was trying to sound out German in all the wrong ways.

Gilbert snapped up the paper and began to read aloud in English. "The Chancellor of Veneziano is said to be scheduled to meet our great duchess Katharina sometime this week, according to the head of international security Herr Ademaro Hoffmann. It is unconfirmed what exactly the meeting will be about, but it is suspected that some form of alliance and opening of trade could be an option. The Chancellor of Veneziano, Signore Adriano Arrigo, will be the first person from a different country to visit our Kingdom of New Prussia in almost a decade."

"I hear a few things wrong with that article," said Arthur.

Gilbert was staring silently at the headline. I frowned. I wouldn't have said as bluntly as Arthur, but the article was odd. "Does Italy have a chancellor?" I asked aloud.

"No, we have a president who elects a prime minister," said Lovino. "But our country isn't referred to politically as Romano and Veneziano; it's just Italy."

We all huddled in a circle around Gilbert, who still wasn't saying anything. "I am having a bad feeling about this," Ivan said.

"You don't think…" Mathew whispered.

I looked at him. "Yes?"

"You don't think this a world where the Germans won World War Two? Um, sorry, Ludwig—"

"It is fine," Ludwig said shortly.

"There are a lot of strange coincidences," Francis said. "The different government, the currency, the existence of a kingdom of Prussia…"

"Is there a map?" Kiku asked suddenly. Between him not speaking or reacting to the argument, I'd nearly forgotten he was here. "Check and see if there is a map." Gilbert's brow was creased and his red eyes were narrowed. "Gilbert?"

He blinked and mumbled an apology before flipping through the paper. "Here!" he said, pointing at a page in the middle. "It's the stock rates from every country in- was-den…?"

Alfred took the paper and looked at the map. "Huh? But that's not what… What?"

The other countries began peering behind his shoulder, effectively keeping me from seeing anything. "Guys, I can't see," I said. They traced their fingers along the map and looked at each other. "Guys? Can I see?"

"My country is not that small," Antonio huffed in annoyance. Lovino chigi'ed.

"Or you can just not; that's cool too," I said quietly.

Feli finally took notice and held the paper down flat so I could see.

The map of the world was in the exact shape of what I'd already known. Or very close, at least. The primary difference seemed to be the color coded guide differentiating each country from the other. America's borders were extended to cover Central and South America, while Canada took claim to every island and Alaska, including Greenland, Iceland, and Australia. Italy was cut in half and reduced to Veneziano and Romano while England took possession of its entire island. Spain covered Portugal, but lost a near third of its original size to France, which had taken over Switzerland as well. Germany had Denmark and the countries around the Netherlands and Austria while Russia took over the entirety of the Middle East, Africa, Eastern Europe, and the three remaining Nordic countries. China took over much of Asia, not including Korea and Taiwan which were apparently owned by Japan. And in the center of it all, looking no more than twice than dear, sweet Liechtenstein's size was a spot labeled "Prussia".

"It's just the twelve of you," I said. "The twelve who went into the mansion." I traced my finger over the picture of Veneziano and blinked. Behind closed eyes, just for a second, there was a flash of green. I gasped.

"What is it?" Francis asked worriedly.

"C 18," I said numbly.

"What?" said Yao.

"C 18," I repeated, then shook my head. "Um… what?"

"You said C 18," Antonio said, looking at me in concern.

"What's that?" I asked.

"You mean you don't know?" Lovino said suspiciously.

"I feel like I saw something…" I rubbed my eyes.

"Maybe it's a page number for the newspaper?" Alfred took the paper and searched through it.

"Here it is," he said. "It's just a picture of that Chancellor guy."

The picture was in black and white, but the Chancellor of Veneziano reminded me eerily of the Viscount Lord Druitt, with long light hair (plus a curl) and a suggestive squint in his eyes and smirk. I immediately took a dislike to him. Feli, who had been almost completely silent since we appeared here, made a bit of a choking noise.

"Feli, what's wrong?" Ludwig immediately put a hand on his shoulder, which made Lovino look even more suspiciously.

I flattened the paper so I could see the picture better. The opposite page had a picture of the duchess Katharina. It seemed to be a sketch more than an actual picture, and had the word "gehorchen" written across the bottom. She had high cheek bones that looked well sculpted, like an ice statue. Her hair was long, straight, and dark, and her eyes were almost darker. And she looked eerily like me. "That's really creepy," I said.

"It's her," Feli whimpered.

 _Her?_ I thought. _He must mean me. But why is he scared?_ "No… Feli, I'm sure this is a coincidence." I gingerly patted his arm. "That person just looks like me, or—"

"Da! Er ist da!" someone shouted. We jumped and looked to see two men running towards us. One had a walkie-talkie and shouting rapid fire German into it. They pushed Antonio and Yao away and grabbed Feli, who yelped and began to struggle. I reached to grab him but was forcibly shoved backwards. They turned their (Prussian) blue uniformed backs and took off. Lovino shrieked and ran after them, screaming Italian.

"Come on!" Alfred yelled as we started running. Lovino, Ludwig, and Alfred were at the lead, while Yao and I lagged behind.

I was wheezing loudly as I tried to keep pace. "You're young; you should be at the head of the group!" Yao huffed.

"I'm an author, not a marathon runner!" I gasped in reply.

A long black car without windows pulled in front of the men as we began to reach an intersection. The door opened and Feli was shoved inside. The men slammed the door behind them, yelling, "Geh jetzt! Jetzt!" The tires wailed against the concrete and the car sped away.

"No!" I exclaimed, and tried to run faster, finally passing Yao. _Gosh darned convenient get away cars!_ I thought. _This is so cliché! Why can't they act in a way less common in books like this?_

The intersection was incredibly busy with jaywalkers. People hurried to the side to avoid the car, acting as if there wasn't a kidnapping in progress. They did seem to notice when we started shoving them aside, though.

Exhaustion took the wheel of my three second speed burst. I was slowing down when Yao slammed into my back, pushing me into Kiku, who tripped over Mathew, sending him flying into Arthur, who grabbed Francis's coat, pulling him backwards and squishing us into a half falling pile of people. I quickly pushed myself up to avoid any dirt and to keep moving. I pulled Kiku to his feet and shouted "Where's the car? We have to find the car!"

A furious screech made us cover our ears. Lovino was screaming at the sky while Ludwig shouted angry German at the way the car had gone. Ivan, Alfred, and Gilbert were giving death stares at the huge mass of people walking in the middle of the street without a care in the world. We hurried to catch up with Antonio. His hands were shoved in his pockets and he was glaring at his shoes. "What happened?" Arthur asked when we reached him. "Why did we stop?"

"They got away," Antonio said darkly. He was venomously quiet, like a snake before it strikes. "Feliciano's gone."

 ** _Line Break Let's See If This Works Blah Blah I'm A Member Of The Midnight Crew_**

*Tries to play dramatic music on a viola, but breaks all of the strings* Oops. Well, better find a place to hide that. Oh no, Feli has been kidnapped. Whatever shall we do. Well, at least I don't have to write dialogue for him anymore. That makes my job easier. Yeah, I'm heartless, weh.

Now I'm sure a few of you have made a connection to the mysterious Author lookalike. I won't say anything as of now, but if you want me to disperse any false possibilities of future chapter content, tell me. Please. I've got a huge audience, I know that more than one person has something to say. Let's just have a general shout out to every country housing fans: USA, China, Philippines, Canada, Italy, Thailand, Indonesia, Brazil, Peru, UK, and Malaysia. Thank you all so much for reading. I'd be really stoked to meet all of you and travel to see the awesome architecture. I'm not good at building, but I love seeing beautiful and unique architecture. Also, Arty's ambition is to be an architect, so that's awesome.

There is a reason Gilbert senses a disturbance when The Author says awesome, which may not or may be revealed or hinted at in the end. Also, so that no one complains about triggers and privileges, NO, I do not consider the borders mentioned in the story as how things should be. Each country, no matter how obscure or grandiose, is special and can hold its own. It's just the people who do bad things that make their countries seem like they're less than they are. And that goes for everyone, obscure and grandiose. So don't start flaming each country for what the people do. Hate people, but be kind to everyone you meet anyway, even if they aren't. This has been a message about things. We hope you enjoyed.

Now onto a lighter note. While there may be a more direct way to say "calm down" in German, the phrase most often used is "Immer mit die Ruhe", which directly means, "Always with the quiet". Just in case you were wondering. The things you learn in language class.

*The Author's little sister, The Deviant, who really wanted to be in one of my stories (and yes Devi I'm calling you The Deviant because you have a Deviant Art account so stop asking for cameos I'm getting tired of it. Also I don't own Deviant Art.) plays dramatic music on the piano (It's The Deviant or The Musician, your choice unless the audience plays a democratic role. Nudge wonk at the audience).* What has happened to Feli? Will The Author try not to freak out about being a bad cult member in the next chapter? Will the newspaper man make another appearance? Why are there only twelve countries? For answers to these questions and more (Except the third one, he's not coming back), leave a review, tell me what you think, and take a look at the poll on my profile to decide what my little sister's name should be. Until then!


	5. Chapter 4: Too long for the letter limit

And the results are in! A total of two other people besides me actually cast their vote for my sister's pseudonym! And one of those people was my actual sister. The other was rwbygirl, because she's cool and says hey. Thanks, rwbygirl. Anyway, there was one vote asking for my sister to choose (That was mine) and two for The Deviant. This is mainly evidenced by the fact that my sister changed her fanfiction account to Devi The Deviant. So yeah, check her out. Also, great job everyone, you did nothing. Sorry for sounding surly, but I'm a bit sore and covered in bug bites. For my moirail's birthday, we went to a tea house, got full, went back to her house, and through cupcakes at each other in her back yard. Fun, but sticky. (Happy birthday Arty!) I really don't mean to be angry sounding, but I'm feeling a bit off today and I don't really want to edit out the most likely rude things out of the authors note. Sorry.

On to things you want to hear, I'm going to have no computer access for ten days or so, so the next chapter won't come out for a little while longer. This chapter is probably the biggest so far, mostly because there was a specific point I wanted to stop at, and I may have rushed a bit to get there. You might notice that, and you're welcome to give me guff about it. So be prepared for yelling, crying, food smuggling, mysterious rebel types, and ego bruising pep talks. Also, I thought I'd just point this out; I got a lot of inspiration for this story from the Cyber Invasion in season two of Doctor Who, and a bit at the end will have a similar feel (Or I hope it will) to the beginning of "The End of Time: Part One", one of the Doctor Who movies. The Cyber episode may hint you to what sort of universe this place is. But you won't see those people that I know you're almost immediately thinking of probably maybe. So don't ask. Now, without further ado, a really long chapter. Get the popcorn and duct tape, we're reading tonight!

* * *

Chapter 4: Trying to Come to Terms with Being Useless

Have you ever had that moment where someone asks you to find something for them that they left in plain sight on the table, but you just can't find it? And after giving in to the hopeless despair of being incapable of finding the thing, you tell the someone how you can't find the thing and the someone gets all mad and you feel sad and dumb and embarrassed but the someone won't get the thing for you because they can't believe you can't find the thing or something. Something like that. That's more or less what it was like dealing with Lovino Vargas after losing his brother.

"HOW COULD YOU LOSE HIM? HE WAS _RIGHT THERE!_ WHY'D WE GET STUCK WITH _YOU_ IF YOU CAN'T EVEN PREVENT A KIDNAPPING?!"

"I-I-I-I'm s-sorry, Mr. Vargas!" I cried shakily, near tears and thinking, _I'm going to die._

Antonio was still quiet and looking at the ground. Everyone else had gathered around the two of us, looking angry but not saying anything. People moved around us in a wide arc.

"APOLOGIES AREN'T GOING TO GET HIM BACK, ARE THEY?"

"N-no, Mr. Vargas."

"Lovi," Antonio said quietly.

"THEN WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU STANDING THERE FOR, IDIOT? GO FIGURE OUT HOW TO GET HIM BACK!"

"Y-yes, Mr. Vargas." I turned and looked every which way, at people, at buildings, anywhere but at the countries. _THINKTHINKTHINKTHINK!_ I thought. "Um, ah, um," _I'm not finding something fast enough!_

"Lovi," Antonio said again.

 _Ah-ha!_ I thought. "Did anyone see the license plate? If we can get to a police station or something and track the owner of the car, we could find out where they live and look there!"

This was not a satisfactory answer. "THOSE GUYS WERE _WITH_ THE POLICE, IDIOT! DO YOU THINK THEY'RE JUST GOING TO LET YOU TRACK THEM DOWN? HOW _STUPID—_ "

"Lovino." Antonio's voice was solid and commanding. A conquistador had possessed him. I took this as an opportunity to further my distance from everyone and be useful for once.

Lovino turned, "WHAT?!"

"Do you really think that yelling is going to help?" Antonio raised his head and walked slowly toward Lovino, pushing him back and herding everyone else into a tight group. "We did not get 'stuck' with The Author. She was in no position to be blamed for what just happened. We should be thankful that we have anyone else at all to help us. You can't expect her to keep anything bad from happening just because she's a part of this cult… thing. They're humans, and amazing ones at that, each and every one of them. All of you," he addressed each country with a look and a blink. "Should be able to tell she's as scared and worried as the rest of us; probably even worse." He faced Lovino again and stepped closer to him, essentially cornering him. "She's trying to do what she can, and you have to remember that she's just a young human. We were like that in the mansion, si? Trying to do things alone and passing blame isn't an option. We have to work as a team again. Do you understand?" Lovino glared at him. The other countries looked at each other and frowned. "Do you understand?"

Lovino trembled. His fists slowly unclenched, and he looked at the ground. "Si," he said. They all nodded and mumbled their agreements.

"Bueno," Antonio lightly tapped Lovino on the head and turned him in the opposite direction. "Now apologize to the chica; I think you made her blind."

Oblivious to the entire conversation, I was stumbling around in panic, hyperventilating, and trying and failing not to cry and freak out the locals. "Ens-enschuldigen –S-sie—" I stammered at a woman with a child in her arms.

"Geh weg," she snapped, holding her child protectively and hurrying away.

I stumbled toward a man in a business suit. "Enschuldigen—"

"Lass mich in Ruhe," the man growled as he stomped off.

I was about to try again when I was nabbed from behind, turned around, and shaken at a rate that made me say, "Aah-aah- _hic_ -aah."

"I said apologize, Lovi, not strangle."

"I _am_ apologizing." Lovino stopped shaking me, crossed his arms and looked away. I hurried to wipe my eyes and nose. You've got to look sort of professional in these cases. Lovino sighed. "Look, I'm… sorry I yelled, okay?"

"Anything else?" Antonio prompted.

"I'm sorry I blamed you, too! Sheesh, what do you want from me, a written apology?"

"Lovi…"

"No," I said shakily. I stabilized my breathing, wiped the last of the face liquid away, and looked down like a punished school kid. "You have right to be angry. I could have moved faster or tried harder to get him back. I'm sorry, Mr. Vargas." There was a pause.

"Lovino," he said.

I looked up. "Huh?"

"I told you to call me Lovino, si? You need to remember that."

I blinked. "Of… of course, Lovino." I heard my voice steady a bit.

"Perhaps we need to formally introduce ourselves," Arthur said. "As I'm sure you know, I'm Arthur Kirkland, and you may call me Arthur."

Alfred did a bit of a fist pump. "Alfred F. Jones, the hero!" Arthur bopped him on the head. Everyone introduced themselves and made it clear we were all on a first name basis.

"I'm The Author," I said with a bow, "It's nice to meet you—" I nearly poked a someone on the head with my hair. "Oh, sorry." I stepped back to allow them room to move around me, but the little girl tugged at my T-shirt, thus earning my full and immediate attention.

She was small, perhaps about seven, and looked up at me expectantly with blue eyes. Her white blonde hair was long and messy, her patchwork dress was grubby, and she held a basket almost half her size in her arms.

I returned her expectant gaze. "Enschuldigen Sie," She said. Her voice was a quiet squeak, and made her more endearing and slightly stereotypical of orphan children. But I would let it pass, since she looked like she didn't need my writing shtick at that moment.

I knelt down so I could see her eye to eye. "Kann ich Sie helfen?" I asked, making sure not to stumble over my words.

She raised her basket, which was full of field flowers in shades of yellow and white. "Moechten Sie Blume kaufen?"

I looked at the array of buttercups, clover, and flowering weeds, some with bruised petals and long roots attached. "Sie sind schoen," I said. "Aber, ich habe kein Geld. "

The girl frowned slightly, as if she understood, then asked hopefully, "Haben Sie Essen?"

 _Food,_ I thought, about to tell her that no, I did not have any, sorry, when I remembered something. Earlier that morning, I noticed that someone had nabbed a few granola bars from the pantry and left them untouched on the couch I was about to play Harvest Moon on. Such a waste, I had thought. I absently shoved them into my pocket (I wore pants with pockets that day). "Ah-ha!" I said, retrieving a wrapped chocolate chip bar from my pocket and presenting it to the girl. She looked at it in my hand, and then looked at me as if to ask, "Is this a joke?"

"Es ist Essen," I said, opening the wrapper and showing her the actual food. "Sie koennen es haben."

She made a happy gasp, eyes sparkling and putting a warm feeling in my chest. She took the bar, practically shoved the basket of flowers into my hands, and ran away. "Whoa, wait!" I called, standing up. "I can't take all of this!"

"Danke schoen!" I could hear her call from somewhere in the crowd. "Gehen Sie auf die Leiste auf der linken Seite! Sie werden Sie helfen!" Then she was gone, and I was left with a basket of flowers and a planet full of questions.

"What was that?" Francis asked.

I showed them all the flowers and made a sheepish smile.

"'Gehen Sie auf die Leiste auf der linken Seite; Sie werden Sie helfen',"Gilbert said, more to himself than anyone.

 _Huh?_ I though, my brow furrowing to translate.

"Huh?" said Alfred.

"It means, 'Go to the bar on the left side; they will help you.'" Gilbert pointed behind me, his left. We were still standing in the street, acting as a blockage in the foot traffic. The low stone building Gilbert was pointing at was dark, but had faint light glowing through the cracks in the door. The windows were covered with blinds on the inside, and broken glass made the path leading to the door glitter. A chain link fence separated it from the tall glass buildings on either side, making it seem alone in its own plane of void.

"Looks dangerous," I heard Mathew say quietly.

Ivan retrieved his pipe from his coat and rested it on his shoulder. "Nothing that we can't handle, da?"

"No killing or maiming, wanker," Arthur scolded. Ivan's smile faltered a bit as he put his weapon away.

"I'll lead the way." Alfred stepped onto the sidewalk, followed by Mathew, who mumbled something about how we all knew the way, who was followed by the other nations, and then by me.

I slowed my pace to walk a few steps behind the others. My hands worried at the handle of the basket. I looked slowly from left to right. The plot that the bar was built on was small, maybe fifty feet squared, the building taking up only two fifths of the land. Bleached grass tufted out along the cement path, seeming to grasps at the shards of brown and green glass. As I carefully tried not to cut my feet (I probably shouldn't have worn flip flops), I listened to the ringing in my ears. We weren't but a few feet from a busy street, but it was unnaturally quiet here. I imagined that the grass went on for miles, the sky gray and looming low over the only building to be seen. So very peaceful. So very quiet. So very lonely.

Alfred opened the wooden door and held it open for the rest of us. The bar was dimly lit, occupied by a few stragglers resting at sparsely placed oak tables. The only thing truly resembling a bar was the long wooden counter with stools lined up along the outside, and a man absently wiping at a glass with a dirty cloth. It struck me as the perfect place to hold a poetry reading.

The man glanced up at us as we approached him. I sat on a stool and he looked at me with a raised brow. "Oh, no thank you," I said quietly, forgetting to speak German.

"You speak English," The man said with a thick accent, setting down the glass and wiping his hands. "Not many people speak English here, only royalty and bar tenders." He had dark hair, graying at the roots, and an unkempt mustache to match. _Royalty and bar tenders?_ I thought.

Gilbert sat on the stool next to mine. "We were told that this bar would help us," he said.

The man began to wipe his glass again. "Maybe," he replied. "What is the problem?" _That reminds me,_ I thought, _how did that kid know we needed help? Was she watching us or something?_

"Our friend was kidnapped by some men in a long black car." Yao sat next on the other stool next to me.

The man shook his head. "Those were the guards of the royal castle. No one who is taken is seen from again. You should give up." _That's ridiculous!_ I thought.

"That's ridiculous!" Arthur said. "He didn't do anything wrong; none of us did. We haven't even been in this country for an hour yet."

"You are foreigners?" The man set down his glass, which looked like it'd been worried as much as this basket was going to be with me. To each his own I suppose.

"Yes," said Yao. "Is that so surprising?"

"Yes." That was going to be the cleanest glass of the century. "Foreigners have not been allowed to travel through our borders for over a decade, after the twelve great countries took over the Earth." _Twelve great countries?_ I thought. "The trees that surround our borders were planted ages ago, for this purpose or another, I do not know. No vehicle can travel through the forest, and guards have orders to shoot any unauthorized trespasser on sight." _That's a lot of guards,_ I thought. "It must have been luck that let you in without notice, or perhaps cruel fate. I cannot help your friend."

Lovino set his hands on the counter and leaned toward the man. "That's my brother you're talking about, jerk, and if you don't help—"

" _I_ cannot help you," the man repeated, not looking away from his shiny glass. "But I know a few things in this capitol. A few people, as well." He set down the cup again and looked Lovino in the eye. "The things and people I know could get me arrested, just like your brother. I've worked very hard to keep this old place off of the red list. I hardly get any business."

"Are you asking for a bribe?" Kiku asked.

"That is not up to me." The man picked up his glass (again) and turned away from us. "That is up to you."

We turned away on our stools and looked at each other in a group huddle. "Should we trust this guy?" Alfred asked.

"I don't like his attitude," Lovino replied.

"But he's the only one we've met who's willing to help," Mathew said.

"We can find someone else," Lovino said. "He can't be the only person to know anything."

I rested my chin on my hand, crossed my legs, and gazed at a spot on the wall. _A bribe…_ I thought. _We don't have any money, or at least not the kind he's probably asking for. And it's not like we know our way around this town or know information that he could find useful. Say, how did that little girl know about this place? Perhaps she has a parent who drinks frequently… but why is there anyone who has to sell flowers and things for money, or even food? And this whole thing with guards and trespassers and the like; perhaps it's because she can't even try going somewhere else for a brighter opportunity?_ I rubbed my chin and looked down my nose. _Why on Earth would this Duchess Katharina lady be so private? There must be something going on that she wouldn't help her people and arrest anyone without a warrant or even an accusation. Or she might just not care. That could be a thing. If the town is poor, what are those glass buildings for? Are they offices, houses, what? And why does food seem to be immensely more valuable than money that could be used to buy food?_ I looked at the basket still in my other hand. _Food…_

"Author. Hey Author. Author. Author. Author. Hey Author. Hey Author. Hey—" Francis lightly swatted Alfred on the head. "Hey!"

"Earth to Author," Mathew said quietly. "Author, this is Earth, do you copy?"

I blinked, only sort of hearing him in the Land of Thought and Flow. "Earth, this is Author- I copy, over."

Ivan being to poke me in the forehead with his large finger. "Then maybe you should act like it, da?"

I looked up at his poking finger lethargically before I awoke from my travel to the Seer's Medium. "Oh," I jumped a bit and sat up straight. "Yes, um, what is it?"

"I was asking," Francis said, a bit tiredly. "If you have any more of those… how do you say… granola bars?" His brow wrinkled. "Such an ugly word."

"Oh, yes. Here." I pulled three remaining bars out of my pocket. Who was this mysterious family member of mine who would dare to leave these lying around? It was convenient for me, but still.

"It's the best we've got," said Arthur as he took them all from my hand. "Excuse me, sir."

The man glanced over his shoulder. "Ja?"

"We don't have any money," The man turned away again. "But we do have food."

The man said nothing. He stopped wiping his glass. "Where is it from?" he asked quietly.

Arthur blinked and looked at one of the bars. "The United States," he replied.

The man glanced back at him. "From where?"

"America, mate."

He started to hand it over the counter when the man turned around quickly and hissed, "Don't wave it out in the open like that, dummkopf! Be discreet." Arthur pulled back and slid one of the bars toward the man in a more discreet manner. He took it and examined it, covering our view with his hands and turning it over, examining each plastic wrapped angle. He carefully opened one end of the bar and examined it underneath. "Ja," he said finally. "This could fetch a nice price in the underground market." _The underground market?_ I thought. The man put the bar away and picked up his glass again, leaning towards us. "Now listen carefully," he said. We leaned closer to him. "Table three."

"What?" said Antonio.

"I'm out of beer, sorry. I'll check the back." The man took his glass and hurried through a back door that might have been a closet or something. We all looked at each other.

"So… that happened," said Alfred.

"Which table is table three?" Gilbert asked. We looked at the tables behind us. There was a card on each table with a number on it. Table five, table two, table one, table twenty three, and table three, which was pushed all the way in the back corner, where the light was farthest and conveniently set an eerie mood to the situation.

We looked at each other again before slowly making our way to the table, casually avoiding the two guys at table twenty three. I wondered if all of the other tables had been confiscated for interrogation or something.

Table three was a booth, the only one in the bar. Square shaped spots of soot settled where the other booths might have been. A single shadow was relaxed on one side of the square surrounding cushion. Their feet rested on the table and their arms were folded behind their head. The thirteen of us squeezed onto the opposite side to assure this obviously mysterious rebel type they had plenty of space to look cool and mysterious.

"Can I help, mates?" a lady's voice asked. _Oh hey, English,_ I thought.

Arthur seemed more comfortable with a familiar accent. "The bar tender sent us your way," he said. "We need help."

She cricked her neck. "Gonna cost ya, mate."

"We have food," Arthur reached into his pocket.

"Keep it. I have all the food I need." I squinted at her shadow. Short hair and pants; that was all I could make out. She placed one of her hands on her chest. "You blokes better give names and reasons, quick. I was just about to leave."

We introduced ourselves from left to right, right being the edge of the seat I was hanging off of. When I spoke, she looked at me with a twitch of her head. She swung her legs off of the table and leaned toward me, her fists sitting ready in front of her. I leaned away. "Who is Katharina?" she asked.

"The, uh, duchess lady. Of Prussia," I responded, not expecting a question.

"The duchess lady," she repeated. "Alright, lass, how many siblings does the duchess have?"

"Um, two?"

"Just the one. Who are her parents?"

"I… don't… know?"

"She has none. What's your opinion on the duchess?"

"I've never met her."

"What have you heard?"

"Not much," I cradled the basket and stared at the flowers. "She's private, I guess, keeps to herself. Er, I guess maybe she's not the nicest person. And she speaks English?"

The lady clapped slowly and quietly. "That's the best thing I've heard all day. Okay, I'll trust you lot."

 _Really?_ I thought. "Really?" Arthur asked.

"I wanted to make sure you weren't the duchess in disguise. Not that she'd be caught dead in a place like this. Where'd you get the flowers?"

I set the basket on the table. "A little girl gave it to her in exchange for food," Kiku explained.

"That's another thing," she wagged a finger. "The duchess wouldn't have done that. That girl's name is Julia, and the duchess would have had her arrested on the spot." She pronounced the name like you-lee-ah.

"What? Why?" Francis asked.

"Begging isn't allowed. Papers will tell you that crime rates in this awful place are sky high, but it's mostly beggars and orphans going to the slammer. Julia's been lucky, she has, and the crowd won't acknowledge her. That's good and bad."

"Getting back to the problem at hand?" Lovino waved his hand in annoyance. "My brother's been taken by those police jerks, and we need to get him back and then get the heck out of here!"

"Easy there, mate," she raised a hand. "Getting your brother shouldn't be a problem. Getting out of here is a completely different matter." She slid out of the booth and dusted her pants. It was still hard to see what she looked like. "Let's talk somewhere else. Come on, then." She gestured and we followed, clumsily pushing each other out of the booth. She sauntered to the side of the room we were just on, opened the door the bar tender had gone through earlier, and hurried inside.

The door led to a dark, thin stairwell moving strait and down, its creaky wooden steps interrupting our loud breathing. The stairs ended in a small room with shelves of various drinks, though most of the shelves were empty and covered in dust. A single light swayed on a string, bathing the room in yellow. The lady had shortly cropped hair and wore long black pants and a jacket. Her muddy boots stepped heavily in front of a shelf leaning against the wall on our right. She pushed it out of her way and walked into an opening a bit smaller than the first door. She let us pass by her before shifting the shelf back into place. A short lightless hallway later, the room opened in a large cube, big enough to fit maybe ten more people besides us. The floor was concrete and relatively clean looking, and the only light came from small windows high up on one of the walls. I could see people's feet moving by quickly.

"Introductions, then," the lady set her hands on her hips and looked at each of us with her forest green eyes. "The name's Brittany; don't wear it out."

I perked a bit at her name. "Brittany Davis?" Alfred asked, seeming to have the same idea as me. Brittany did look like our Brittany, with the same eyes and blonde hair, though this one had much shorter hair and stood with her legs apart and her shoulders relaxed, more like a cocky rebel than an all too serious and odd acting leader I could mention by name.

Brittany's eyes flicked toward Alfred. "You've heard of me?" she started to reach into the pocket of her jacket.

"No, no, you just look like a… friend of ours. Her name is Brittany Davis." Alfred raised his hands in defensive manner.

Brittany made a click sound with her tongue. "Must be a coincidence. My last name is Davidson, not Davis. I've in this rubbish town for eleven years; I hate it more each year."

 _Eleven years?_ I thought. "Eleven years?" Gilbert asked. "Haven't foreigners been banned for… what was it, nine years?"

"Ten," Brittany said. "I was traveling back home to England after a yearlong school trip here when the law banning foreigners was made. I was about to get on the plane to leave when I ended up separated from the class and missed the last flight home. I've been trapped here since, trying to avoid being arrested. The law ceasing foreign trades and foods came less than a week later."

"That's awful," said Mathew.

"Yes, but it's given me time to think, and time to take fate into my hands and give it what for." Brittany gestured at the windows above us. The light was starting to turn orange. "I've been making the most of being here and made some allies, people who want to know what's really going on. That totals to two other people besides me. That bar tender, and another person."

"Only two?" Antonio asked.

"Anyone else who might have helped was arrested a while ago. The rest of the town is doing oh so splendidly, even though most everyone is starving."

"So, about Feliciano," Arthur asked, looking a bit fidgety.

"Yes, yes, your friend." Brittany brushed off her shoulder absently. "I said it was gonna cost ya."

"What do you want?" Yao asked.

"Information." Brittany looked at each of us in turn. "The Chancellor of Veneziano is visiting tomorrow evening. I want to know why. And since the prisoners are housed in the castle dungeons, it'll coincide perfectly with the rescue operation. Sound fair?"

We all looked at each other. I was still holding the flower basket. "How do we get your information?" Ivan asked.

"I'm going to figure that out tonight, while you lot take a kip. It's getting late, and you look like you've been running a marathon all day." She held out her hand towards us. "Do we have a deal?"

I looked at everyone else. They looked at each other, but seemed to mostly glance at me. Did they expect me to take charge?

Lovino stepped forward and shook Brittany's hand. "Si. It's a deal," he said.

Brittany gripped his hand before letting go. "Right then. Make yourselves at home; I going to close the blinds."

"Awesome," Gilbert said as he took off his jacket and tossed it over his shoulder. It landed on the basket in my arms.

"Um," I said. Gilbert got on the floor and went to sleep, snuggling next to Mathew, who was also being squished by Alfred and Francis. Antonio lay next to Francis, and Lovino plopped next to him, keeping his back to him and distancing himself by a foot. "Can I use this?" I asked quietly. Gilbert breathed sleepily. "I-I'm gonna use this. Gonna have a pillow. A clean pillow."

Brittany tugged at a string near the wall as everyone else began to settle down. I set the basket on the floor and folded the jacket in a relative square, using the inside as the place to lay my head for maximum cleanliness assurance. The string Brittany pulled released a sheet that covered the windows, darkening the room considerably from orange to blue. She noticed me watching. "The windows look out through the sewer grates along the side walk outside the bar," she explained. "No one ever looks down here, and no one does any sewage work."

"That strikes me as a safety hazard," I said.

"The duchess doesn't care. One less expense she has to pay."

I shuffled my feet and picked the basket up again. "How can that be allowed…?" I whispered to myself.

Brittany had her arms crossed and watched me with interest. "Where're you from, lass?"

"The United States of America," I replied.

Brittany looked confused. "The _what_ of America?"

"The United States…" I frowned. "Is that not a thing?"

"We just have America. Where are you from that would have a 'united state'?"

I looked into the basket. "It is a bit of an odd story," I said.

Brittany leaned down to meet my eyes. She was taller than me. "Something you want to say, mate?" she asked a bit softly.

"Oh, not really, it's just, um," I held out the basket and kept my eyes on the floor. "If… should you see Julia again… and if it's not too much trouble, of course, could you… give this back to her?"

Brittany looked at the basket. "You bought that, didn't you? Why do you want to give it back?"

I hugged the basket. "It seems to me that she should not have given me her only means of getting food and money if she's starving. Also, it's a nice basket, and it'd be a shame if she had to buy another…"

Brittany breathed a bit of laughter and took the basket from me. "I'll give it back the next time I see her," she promised.

"Thank you," I said, and did a short bow. "And thank you for helping us, and letting us stay the night."

"No need to be all formal, mate, you're welcome. Good night."

"Good night." Brittany walked toward the hall we had come from, and I carefully settled on a clean looking spot on the floor and rest my head on the pillow. The floor was cool, and light snores made the deep blue darkness a touch friendlier.

I find the dark to be peaceful. While soft and clouded lighting was nice, darkness was where the black handkerchief would fall on your eyes and let you hear the ringing silence of night. Black is an archetype, or universal symbol, of mystery, tragedy, and femininity. I tended to look deeper into its more positive angles than the negative.

I was about to settle into the realm of my thoughts when I heard someone whisper, "Author, are you awake?" It was Ludwig, who I realized hadn't spoken nearly a word since Feli had been kidnapped.

"I am," I replied quietly. "What is it?"

"What's wrong?" I turned onto my other side, where Ludwig was. He had his hands nestled under his cheek, and his narrow blue eyes seemed to stick out in the darkness. I wondered how that worked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You've been almost silent since… Feli was kidnapped."

"Not as quiet as you've been."

"I've been observing you. You keep your eyes off of everyone, you only speak when spoken to, and you don't say your opinion."

"Sounds about right."

"Author."

I sighed. "It's nothing."

"Look, if it's about Lovino—"

"It's not just him." I looked down at my clasped hands. "I am just naturally tense. And…" I burrowed my head into the jacket pillow. "Lovino is right about many things. Not everything, necessarily," I said, stopping Ludwig from interjecting. "Just some things. I have thought of this before, and I agree when he says there are other members of the cult that could have been more use in this sort of situation. I'm not fast, or particularly strong, or confident in social and aggressive motions. The whole fight thing at the mansion was adrenaline; I had no idea what I was doing."

"I'm sure you're not the only one to feel that way."

"In all likelihood," I replied. "But the whole thing with me telling my sister I liked being in the cult; what was I thinking? It's not that I'm ashamed to be a part of it, obviously, but what part of being a member do I actually enjoy? The fighting, being with friends, what? Those things aren't the point of being in the cult. And Brittany—our Brittany, not this one—I don't know what she was going on about with observations and tests and whatever. I don't think there's much to observe about me."

"I had heard you removed a magic bullet," Ludwig said.

"I'm going to pin that again on adrenaline. The chemical reaction in my body created the momentary strength to pull it out. And yet…" I sighed again. "There's something I can't really explain. Maybe that's what Brittany's talking about. Our Brittany, not—"

"Ja, I know who you mean."

"Right. I just feel like there's something… in me. And the only word I can use to describe it is 'green'."

"Green?" Ludwig repeated.

"Green," I confirmed. "Archetypically speaking, it means fertility, growth, and illness. When I removed the bullet from my friend, I later heard that I had a green aura around me. And then today, when we were reading the newspaper," I clenched my eyelids together. "I can't remember what happened, but I can remember seeing green." I sighed again and blinked my eyes slowly. "I just don't know what to think, other than that Vet was right to try getting me away. I should have listened."

We were silent. Kiku murmured something about mochi and settled back into sleep.

"You can't feel sorry for yourself," Ludwig said finally.

"Huh?" I glanced up at him.

"I'm going to say it clearly: It doesn't matter how you feel, or what emotional problems you have, or if you're good enough or not. You came here with us; not Brittany, not your sister, you. Moping about and letting everyone do the work isn't going to change that. If you sit there and don't even try to help, you're just proving that you're not ready for this responsibility, and you _should_ go home. Do something, anything, but don't give up because it makes you uncomfortable. You can't do that forever, you know."

"Naturally," I replied quietly. "But this isn't a story. This isn't some creative work made by someone who wants to put ideas on paper. I'm not a character that has to go through an arc of change and development to further the plot and theme. I'm driving blind, in a place where turning off the power and starting the game again isn't an option. One life, one try, and it has to be perfect. The consequences of failure are effective immediately, and not something you can rewrite or change the train of thought on." I turned away and hid my cowardly ego. "Though I guess I can see what you mean…" I whispered quietly, wondering if he had heard.

"I heard that."

 _Oh._ I thought. "Oh," I said. "So…" How does one respond to this sort of talk?

"So?" Ludwig repeated.

"…Just 'Ludwig', huh?" I said finally. It was quiet for a moment.

"…Ja." He said at last.

"No last name?"

"I couldn't think of anything."

"Why not just use Gilbert's?"

"I would, but I don't think it quite… suits me. Why do you bring this up?"

"It's a bit ironic," I smiled sadly even though he couldn't see. "I hardly know any of you, even though I watch you on TV and read about you all the time."

"That always seemed strange to me… Are we actually that popular?"

"Third most popular topic for fanfictions and fourth most popular crossover topic. Top selling manga and anime, too."

"Wow. That's a little… disturbing."

"It is, if you think about it." I breathed a bit of laughter. "I'd feel the same if there were fan stories about me. Do you ever read any?" There was no response. "Ludwig?" I could hear his breath even out and become deeper. _Fair enough,_ I thought. "Goodnight, Ludwig." I brought my arms closer to my face and curled into a fetal positon. The floor was warm now. I closed my eyes and mulled over what Ludwig had said. _Oh. I'm sleeping away from home tonight._ I thought suddenly. _That's probably not good. My parents might kill me for not asking permission for a sleepover... That's not good…_ The handkerchief pressed against my eyes, and I fell asleep.

* * *

There we go. I hope you're not completely bored out your mind, because I have no way of knowing. If only there was a way to tell me. On a completely different subject, at the bottom of my profile, I've added a list of Reviewers, Favoriters, and Followers of my stories. I wonder how many people are on that list. IIIIII WOOOOONDEEEERRRR

Ten people.

Exactly ten unique people.

Yeah, I'm sorry, I'm really being rude, and that'll probably drive people away rather than attract them, but I'm just a tad shy of being my usual chipper self. I'm really grateful that so many people are at least clicking on my stories, and I'm especially grateful to you ten people for going the extra mile. You know who you are. (If you don't know, check the bottom of my profile. Okay I'll stop.)

Sometimes, when I was writing, I'd write about three sentences a day. Then today, I wrote the part with Brittany (This one, not that one) explain her price and the end of the chapter. I'd have to say that writing Ludwig's line was a challenge. I'm kind of sensitive, and try to do real life things perfect the first time, otherwise I don't think I'm good at it. Not a healthy way to live, but it's how I am. I tried to write his lines so that what he was saying hurt me a bit on the inside. Certainly not what I'd want to hear, but maybe it's what I needed to hear. Was it too harsh or not harsh enough? I think it wasn't bad, but I might be wrong. It's also kind of ironic that The Author says she's not a character in a story when she actually is. It makes me want to curl in a corner and become an unusually sad conspiracy theorist. Fun times all around, as always.

I'm going to post this feeling much better because my email just informed me that CoLabHQ (Which I don't own) has come out with the last part of Act 6 Act 3 for Let's Read Homestuck (Which I also don't own), and I am quite excited up about it. Open bound is coming soon! Yay! (I don't own that.) So I'll see you all a good while from now, so take your time with reading, and if you haven't already, read Homestuck! Seriously. I honestly don't know what people mean when they say Act 1 is boring; I found the narrating dialogue very hilarious. And of course, it gets better. Also, not that I have a connection to these people, but while I talk about YouTube (Which I don't own), look up Sgt. Frog Abridged (Which I also don't own). They're the best.

So anyway, please (please) leave a review, and I'll see you later! Until then!


	6. Chapter 5: Trying to Understand the Plan

Also known as: The one where complicated things are sort of explained

Also known as: The one with the education thrown in.

Also known as: The one with slightly obscure references.

Also known as: The Author is not the best translater.

Also known as: A complicated plan is made, but things go wrong so I don't actually have to deal with it.

Also known as: Sorry, rwbygirl. It's not quite what I promised, but here it is.

* * *

Chapter 5: Trying to Understand the Plan

Some people like cats. Some people like dogs. Some people like Sydney funnel web spiders. Those people are the ones who sleep in your cupboard at night, except for the hour that they're in your mattress.*

When I woke up at the early hour of still-dark-outside, curled in the fetal position, I was thinking of my dear, sweet, precious cat at home. _Is she thinking about me?_ I wondered at the one eyed cat with its feet tucked under it. Wait…

I quickly rubbed my eyes and patted the floor for my glasses; I gasped quietly when I could see again. The cat looked at me with its yellow eye. Its right eye seemed to have a scar over it that kept it from opening. It had matted gray fur with black stripes on its back and thin fur on its nipped ears. I lay on my stomach and faced the cat. I scooted a bit closer.

"Cat," I said. It blinked at me and raised its chin. I scooted closer to its face. "Kitty cat. Be my friend." I inched forward. It hissed quietly at me, barely revealing its perfect fangs. I settled back to where I was before the hiss. "I will love you from a distance, kitty cat." It blinked at me again, then stretched out one of its front paws and yawned. It shifted slowly onto its side, revealing its soft white under belly. It blinked slowly. "I have been blessed," I said.

"Que?" asked Antonio. Apparently my shenanigans had not been as quiet as I thought.

"Good morning," I said over my shoulder, not looking away from the cat. "I've made a friend."

Rustling clothes and grunts signaled the awakening of the others. Antonio crawled next to me. "So that's your friend?" He looked at the cat oddly.

"Indeed. Isn't it just a sweet little baby of sweetness?" I smiled as the cat flicked one of its torn ears. "Aww, it's so sweet and cute."

"It's… a very strong looking cat," Antonio said as he sat up and looked at the gathering nations behind us. The sweet kitty stretched and settled into a sit. It blinked at us boredly.

"I see you've met Edward," a familiar voice said as the blinds were drawn and light poured into the room. I rubbed my eyes and returned the gaze of Edward. His pupil was narrow and his eye seemed to turn a deep orange in the light. I carefully held out my hand and cooed some more kitty cat love nonsense. "Hey, don't do that!" Brittany said.

I looked up at her. "But why? He's just a sweet little kitty that needs some love."

"No he's not. He's a mean, ornery street cat that'll tear your face off and eat you alive, he's so vicious!" Edward slowly sauntered forward on his white socked paws and sniffed my outstretched hand. I meowed, and he meowed back.

"Adorable kitty," I said in finality.

"Traitor," Brittany grumbled at Edward. She pulled some bags of chips out of a sack she had at her side. "Anyone for breakfast?" She tossed us our potato chip morning meal. "I've been doing some thinking, and I think I have our plan."

I manipulated my chip bag so I could eat without using my hands.

"What is it?" Ludwig prompted.

"It's simple, but it requires good acting and fast movement."

 _I have neither,_ I thought.

"The Chancellor of Veneziano is arriving today, around noon. We need to get in the castle before then, and get the duchess out."

"There's no way she'd miss an important meeting like this," I heard myself say before I could stop myself.

"Right you are. But the duchess is a bit paranoid and sometimes untrusting of her guards. We'll use that to get her out of the way." Brittany pointed at us. "We'll split up into to two fairly even groups, group A and group 2."

"Um," we all said.

"Group 2 will create a diversion in the streets, a little farther away from the castle so that it takes time for guards to get to us. Group A will infiltrate the castle and disguise themselves as soldiers, and will come to 'arrest' Group 2 when reports come in. Group A will need some precision work. For the short time you're in there, you need to create suspicion; not enough to get caught, but enough that someone will tell the duchess, and she'll insist on accompanying you to the arrest. This will get her out of the castle for a solid hour, at least, plenty of time to learn why the Chancellor is here. Group A will 'arrest' group 2, and cart them off to the dungeons, but will help them escape when no one is looking; we'll find your friend, and escape."

Perhaps a tad complicated, but it seemed to be a plan that could work. One thing struck me as odd, though. "Um," I said quietly.

"Yes, Author?" Ludwig practically leapt at the chance to draw me into the plan.

"This plan sounds all well and good," I started slowly, trying not to look as everyone eyed me. "But what if the Chancellor arrives while the duchess is out? Won't he get suspicious and try to find her?"

"Yes," Brittany replied. "That's probably exactly what he would do, if the duchess weren't there to greet him. Oh, and thank you for your suggestion this morning, Ludwig, it was a brilliant idea." Ludwig looked at me knowingly.

 _Uh-oh,_ I thought.

Brittany pulled out a piece of paper out of her chip sack. Holding it up proudly for all to see, she said, "Your part in this charade is the role of Herzogin Katharina!"

 _Gosh dang it, Ludwig._ "Gosh dang it, Ludwig."

Ludwig crossed his arms in satisfaction. He didn't smile, but I saw a smirk in his blue eyes. I made a face at him.

Brittany handed me the paper. "You'll convince the guards that you are Katharina, and they will escort you inside. You'll talk information out of the Chancellor, and then excuse yourself when group 2, now also disguised as guards, come and request your immediate, private presence. That's when we'll escape and hide down here until the real duchess meets with the Chancellor and confusion ensues. We'll find a way to get you lot out of the country when the heat cools down. Is that clear?"

I examined the paper I was handed. It was the same sketch we had seen the other day of the duchess. Dark gray eyes burned into my blue ones, straight dark hair gathered behind her head, away from my wavy red strands, and taught unblemished skin shone against my softer freckled face. This was never going to work.

"This is never going to work," I said.

"And what makes you so sure?" Brittany asked. Gosh, that was eerily similar to what my Brittany said yesterday.

"Just… just look at us!" I held the poster next to my face and looked at the countries pleadingly. "We look nothing alike!"

"Eh…" The countries said.

"Okay, we're sort of alike, but still! No one at the castle will buy this!"

"We're not selling anything," said Kiku.

"Figure of speech; they're never going to believe that I'm Katharina!"

Brittany shrugged. "I could have been fooled when I first saw you."

"It was dark, and this is just a sketch! Do you have an actual _picture_ of Katharina?"

"No one outside of the castle has ever seen a real picture. It's illegal to take a picture of the duchess, so artists create sketches on the occasion that she leaves the castle, which are immediately sent for approval at the ward of national propaganda. But it's more than looks, it's about character. How's your acting, lass?"

"Terrible," I replied.

"Have you tried recently?"

"Define 'recently'."

"She'll do it," Ludwig interjected. He looked at me. "You're going to do this."

I'd have liked to have argued how I could be in any other position and still technically be helping, but the stern reflection in his eyes, aided by his slightly taller height attribute, deepened my desire to not get yelled at.

"Fiiiiiiiine," I said with eight i's.** "But I'm telling you; it won't work. My German is nowhere near fluent enough to pass as a native Prussian, I can't see a thing without my glasses, and I can't do anything about these." I pointed in the general area where my top curl should have been. I felt a strange tug at the base of the curl, as if it was trying to sneak out of sight.

Brittany looked at the curls oddly. "It's just hair, isn't it? Why not just brush it over?"

"That's what I want to know." I looked up at Arthur, who had been studying me with a curve of his bushy eyebrow. "I have no idea what these are for, and any time before when I tried to touch them, people would freak out, but I never knew why. No one ever told me. Do you have any ideas?"

Everyone looked at each other, then back at me. Brittany just seemed confused. I started to reach up the curl that floated beside my left ear. "NO!" The Earth shouted. Brittany and I jumped. I nearly tripped over Edward, who hissed and pattered away to lick his paw furiously.

"That is…" Arthur straightened his tie. "If you don't know what would happen, then I doubt that now's the time to find out, is it?"

"I suppose not…" I said slowly. "But it's just hair…"

"If you want to conceal them, then you just have to think about it," Alfred said with a thumbs up.

I raised my brow at him. " _Think_ about it?"

He nodded. "It's pretty useful when a country is doing espionage. Not that I do espionage. That's not what I—"

"Oh, shut it, wanker," said Arthur.

"Humph," said Alfred.

Lovino waved his hand to draw my attention. He pointed at his curl. "You have to imagine it being concealed within your hair, as if it was just another strand. It takes focus, but it's not hard, si?"

I rubbed my chin. "I'll try…" I stared at the floor and tried to focus.

Something that can be appreciated about the anime dimension thing is that it relieves the mind of sporadic thought jumps. That is, a person who constantly thinks of irrelevant things in a serious situation, such as me, is in now the place where their mind wanders a lot of time, in my case, anime. Physically being where the mind often wanders allows one to focus on things that are not related to the location, which is why you think about anything but the "important" things in our dimension.

I imagined a reflection of myself, looking at the curls in particular. A thicker crescent one at the top right of my part, maybe an inch long, and a near invisible blonde one adjacent to the left side of my head, a single strand thick with a dot floating in the center of the curl. How on Earth was this connected? And how was any of this useful? _Ah, whatever, it's probably not important._ I imagined the top curl moving under the mass of my hair and disappearing, silent as thread. The left one straightened vertically, the dot melding into it, before applying itself into the hair hanging down my back. I might have done it.

"Hey, you did it," Alfred said suddenly. I blinked and focused on people. Mathew was clapping quietly, and Brittany just looked more confused than ever. A tad incredulous, I reached up gingerly, and shakily settled my hand on where I assumed my curl was. Nothing seemed to happen. I patted around, but nothing was there.

"Huh," I said. I was not entirely sure of the emotional response to this.

"…Right," said Brittany as she blinked away her disbelief. "We'll split into our groups then. Let's see…" she crossed her arms and looked at each of us one by one. "Group A should be made up of Ludwig, Lovino, Arthur, Alfred, Gilbert, and the other Arthur."

"I'm The Author," I mumbled.

"Group two will have me, Kiku, Yao, Ivan, Francis, Mathew, and Antonio. Does that sound good?"

I eyed the countries. Antonio seemed uncomfortable with not being with Lovino, Yao looked at Ivan with a hint of wariness, and Alfred flicked his blue eyes toward Mathew. Some of the sibling pairs were split up, and others were working with those who could be considered rivals. But Brittany _did_ seem to be fairly clear headed, even if she thought my name was Arthur and didn't realize that two does not come after A. It took me a second to realize I was nodding slightly.

"Yes," I said quietly. "I think those teams could be fine…"

"Good." Brittany seemed pleased with herself. Yao looked at me beseechingly. "Now group A will leave one at a time, starting with you, lass. You'll leave the bar and wait outside in front of the sewer where our window is. The rest of the group will follow in whatever order. Once you've all left, Arthur will split from the group and casually meander towards the castle, while Arthur and the rest of you hurry to the guards entrance."

"Which Arthur leaves the group first?" Francis asked.

"The one with the parents who are funny in the head for naming her Arthur."

"I said, I'm The Author."

"The majority of group A will sneak in and steal some uniforms and locate the duchess. You'll have to make her suspicious, and she'll probably realize that you're not the usual patrolmen. Meanwhile, group two will exit one by one and meet in front of one of the buildings near the eastern end of the city, where it's far enough that it'll take time to get there from the castle, but close enough that we can quickly locate your friend when we reach the dungeons. We'll begin a protest, and the news will reach the guards quickly. Group A will volunteer to arrest them and the suspicious duchess will insist on accompanying, getting her out of the castle. Once back inside, some of group A will distract the duchess while the rest of group A frees group two and gives them uniforms, which is when they'll locate Arthur, then disguised as the duchess, and ask for her presence. We'll meet back together, retrieve Lovino's brother, and escape before the duchess knows which way is up. Does everyone understand?"

"I still think that no one will believe I'm the duchess," I said. "Would the duchess just show up at the front gates all of a sudden when she just went with several guards to oversee an arrest?"

Brittany shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned when it comes to the guards, the lights are on but no one is home."

 _That strikes me as being over confident, Ms. Davidson,_ I thought with a frown. Perhaps she was not as clearheaded as I thought.

Brittany clapped her hands. "Let's move out, then!" she exclaimed.

I looked at the exit, a bit unnerved, and glanced at the countries in turn. Perhaps one of them would give an encouraging word—

"What are you waiting for, kitz? Hurry up!" Gilbert said. The other nations nodded in agreement.

 _Humph,_ I thought. _Fine then; it's not like I need any of you to validate my existence, anyway._ I looked at Edward, who had finished his bath and was looking at me through half lidded eyes. Sweet, loving, _understanding_ kitty. I waved at him. "Bye-bye, Edward, I love you."

"Ornery street cat!" Brittany whined.

I brushed off my T-shirt and walked through the hall, only looking back twice. It took some effort to push the shelf out of the way, but it was finally done. A few careful steps up the stairs later, I was back in the bar. Light poured in through the window, highlighting the dirt in room. It was empty of all living things, even the bar tender. Say, didn't he leave through that same door yesterday? Where'd he go? Were there other hidden rooms in the beer cellar thing?

The door opened easily enough, a quiet creak making me wince. The air was cool and a bit damp, gentle breezes whispering at the hairs on my arms. The sky was low, gray, and weighted. My favorite kind of sky.

Glass twinkled as I walked on the path to the street. It was very quiet, and streets were still sleeping, the occasional walker making it twitch in its slumber. Suddenly, in the midst of the drowsy peace, I realized that I completely forgot the majority of the conversation, except for the part that I was supposed to be Katharina and go into the castle. I was sure there was something more to it…

I slowed to a stop and hugged myself to ward off the shivers. I glanced both ways on the sidewalk. I was going to get in trouble for not doing the right thing, I was positive of it. _And worst of all,_ I thought, _Ludwig's going to be even angrier than he probably already is, and Lovino's going to think I'm even dumber, and the countries will think I'm useless, and—_

"Enschuldigen Sie," a deep voice on my right said.

 _Oh no,_ I thought. _People._

I turned slowly. This man was cool and collected. You could tell. He was just taller than me, and was as knotted and sturdy as a good branch on a crepe myrtle. His pale skin was rough and wrinkled around the edges. His hair was white and slicked. Arms held behind his back. Bow tie perfectly taught. Suit clean and expertly pressed. He must have been a butler.

My lips moved silently, "…"

Out of the corner of my eye, the bar door opened and Ludwig stepped outside. He saw me and did a double take. I pressed my mouth shut and tried to look away, but the man noticed. Ludwig quietly shut the door. The man appeared to have not seen anything.

He leaned forward. "Herzogin Katharina?" he asked. His accent was so thick that I would have understood his German better.

I gulped and squeaked, "Ja."

He sighed in relief and clasped a hand over his heart. "Oh mein Frau, we were so, so Angst, ja? You have been outside all this morning!"

 _Uh,_ I thought. _Something tells me this wasn't part of the plan. But at least he's speaking English. That's a plus._

"Ihrer Schwester, sie hat Angst. Bitte, you must now come home!"

 _What am I gonna do, what am I gonna do, what am I gonna do?_ "Okay," I mumbled. The man smiled and took my hand, practically dragging me down the sidewalk. I looked behind me frantically. Ludwig had somehow managed to sneak out of the bar and was watching me from behind a mangled bush near the edge of the property. His eyes met mine. He threw his hands in the air as if to ask, _what the heck, Author?_

I shrugged with my free hand _, I don't know!_ Gritting my teeth in worry, I frowned at the back of this man's head. This was not going to end well.

Shock finally let go of its hold on my movements and I tried to keep pace with the man. He was still gripping my wrist. I tried to think of what he had been saying in German earlier, though he'd been speaking so quickly the words mashed together.

' _Angst' means 'fear', I think, so that means someone was scared. We-were? I've never heard of that. Is it a name or a title? Oh dear, is the chancellor already here? He wasn't supposed to show up till later! But if 'we-were' means 'chancellor', then he said that the chancellor was so scared. And after that, I think he said 'ihr' which means 'you all'. But he was only talking to me… perhaps the duchess refers to herself as 'we'. But if that were the case, wouldn't he have used a formal version of you all? Hmm… 'er-schwester' sounds like 'schwester' but it can't be the exact word sister. Maybe he's referring to a sister in law? Or even a sister country? Would this worlds Germany count as a sister country to Prussia, or is it more of a mutual bond of friendship? But if we're talking about the chancellor of Veneziano, then his land must be this Prussia's sister land… I guess. And then 'sie hat Angst', that's easy, 'she had fear' or 'she was scared'. So the chancellor was worried, and so was his entire country for some reason, which is why this guy came to get me. I suppose that makes sense—_

"Mein Frau, das Auto." Huh?

I nearly bumped into the man. While I'd been busy translating spoken German, we had ended up turning a few corners until we had stopped on the sidewalk in front of a sleek black car. It seemed to hold, at most, five passengers, and the car's frame-work hugged low to the ground. The windows were dark and thick. The car was facing the way we had come, and the front door on the opposite side opened. A blonde man stepped out and acknowledged me. He walked around the car to the butler. They regarded each other before opening the passenger door together. The butler helped me into the black leather seat and shut the door.

The cars insides were cool and stale, as if it spent each night being pressed and starched. There were also no seatbelts. _Safety hazard,_ I thought as I scooted into the middle of the bench seat. The driver opened the front left door for the butler, and then entered his seat on the right. It seemed that this worlds Europe had a consistent car design with my Europe. I also noticed that they both had seatbelts. _Well, all right then,_ I thought, _passive aggressive much?_ The driver revved the engine a bit before pulling into the main road.

I am absolutely certain that every single person reading this would love to have a whole paragraph's worth of detail regarding European driving laws. Wouldn't that just be lovely? My, you'll say, what an educational story I have found on this fanfiction site! Oh, how I shall squirm in silent, rich satisfaction that those who have mocked my reading habits will never know just how _educational_ a fanfiction can be! Oh, this sweet, sweet _education!_ I take back every negative comment I've ever made a about schooling ever. This here, this _education—_ it is just too beautiful for words.

Well, too bad. We're skipping that part. Here, you can take back the comments you just took back; I won't charge you. Just imagine The Author looking out of a car window for five to ten minutes before arriving at the castle. I'll just continue writing… right… about—

"—hier," said the driver.

 _Eeyup,_ I thought as I looked up at the "home" of the duchess.

Neuschwanstien Castle is probably one of the first things you think of when I say, "German castles". Located in Bavaria, it is a crisp majesty among fine buildings, with white bricks and gray-blue roofs that stand proudly, surrounded by sweeping acres of forest and mountains. It is a highly recommended stop on your trip to southern Germany, (Though be sure to wear good shoes, since you'll be doing a lot of walking) and is actually the basic design for the castle in Disney Land.*** Okay, okay, I'll try to stop the education. Anyway, the duchess' castle.

It was more similar in color scheme than in actual design. The castle was built on a hill, like Neuschwanstien, though this hill was much flatter and smoothed with a trimmed lawn. The entire building seemed to have a single, curved entrance that hung over the tall metal doors. Small windows peered out of the four cornered towers, and the towers stacked on the castle itself were thick and blank. As the driver left to park the car and the butler ushered me toward the guarded front doors, the whole place stuck me as being very plain and uninspired, not at all interesting or unique in design or detail. Searching through my memories of German castles, I felt as if I had just reached an extremely anticlimactic scene for a final battle. Maybe the builders had thought, _eh, just use a sand castle as a model. That should be fine._ It wasn't even one of the good sand castles.

The inside was just as boring. Instead of grand marble floors, gold painted supports, and ceiling murals of captured moments in religion, white tiles barely echoed under my feet, the walls were painted white, and not so much as a vase on a tiny table ever few feet spiced up the color palate of the hall. As I kept pace with the butler silently, I wondered if the duchess had not been living as grandly as it seemed. A spiraling staircase led up a few stories before we turned into another hallway and reached a small group of people. I felt reclusive as all eyes turned on me.

"Ich habe die Herzogin gefunden," the butler said. The group consisted of about four maids, or what I assumed were maids, based on their modest black dresses and blonde hair tied in tight buns. At the butler's words, they sighed and clasped their hands over their hearts, looking at me lovingly. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at their motherly faces. They all quickly sobered up and stood straight.

 _Oops, that was probably a bit rude._ I gazed with fake interest at a thin vase on a table beside me. _Clay,_ I thought, _shade of brown…_

I realized the butler was talking again. I probably should have listened, but his words grew so complicated that they no longer sounded like anything I'd heard before. One of the maids piped up, and the butler gave her a dismissive wave, letting her leave, before continuing.

My hands made their way to my hair without thinking. _Just what have I gotten myself into?_ I thought as I stroked a few strands furiously, tying them in a thin braid before unraveling and beginning again. _This is all going wrong, so very, very wrong! The duchess is missing, and these people actually think that I'm her! How could this get any worse-dang-it!_ I'd just jinxed it. _Now_ there'd be trouble.

"KATHARINA!" A voice shouted suddenly. I jumped and quickly untangled my hair. The maid that had left earlier had hiked up her skirts and was trying to keep up with a lady in a low cut, dark blue dress. The lady stopped just in front of me, arms open in mid-hug, as we stared at each other.

"Frau Mari! Warten!" the maid called. Mari? What?

 _Just the one,_ Brittany had said earlier about the duchess' siblings. Oh.

If I was supposed to be the _sister_ to this person, I was about to die.

My real sister and I look very similar. Glasses, roughly the same height, and if my hair weren't as red, it would probably be the same shade of light brown as hers. At the same time, we were quite different. Her hair was short; mine was long. She was a tad short; I was a tad tall. She had a healthy frame; I had a bony one. This woman was taking those differences and pushing them toward the deep end.

Her hair was less than five inches long from root to tip, bleach blonde, and styled to be perfectly straight. Her head barely came up to my shoulders, and she was pretty round. All in all, she was cute, but very blaring in comparison to my own sister.

She looked up at me with big baby-blue eyes without glasses, and I thought, _Well, I guess I'm caught._ Mari turned to the maid that had been following her and spoke quickly in German. _And now she's telling on me._

The maid curtseyed to Mari. Mari looked relieved as she clapped her hands and turned to me. "Katharina, my little sister, please, do not leave without saying goodbye again, yes?"

"Uh," I said, mind sparking to put thoughts to words. "Sorry, sister?"

Mari blinked and frowned. Was I not supposed to say that? Mari shook her head and said, "The Chancellor, he will be here soon, and you must dress, yes?"

"Um, okay," I mumbled. Mari nodded in satisfaction.

"I will go to welcome him. Auf wiedersehen."

"Auf wiedersehen," I replied automatically. The maid who had apparently been assigned to me looked confused, as if I had never said those words in my life. She quietly shook her head and gestured down the hallway.

This day was about to be less fun.

* * *

*A reference to Doctor Who: A Christmas Carol

** A reference To Vriska Serket from Homestuck

***In case you're confused: Disney Land, California, has Cinderella's castle while Disney World, Florida, has Sleeping Beauty Aurora's castle.

* * *

Don't expect another chapter update anytime soon. I just figured it was about time to update this.

I wrote this a few years ago and haven't touched it until now. I'm currently attending a creative writing camp, so I brought this out to work on it. Also, I'll be going to college on August 19th, so I doubt I'll have much free time to keep writing this. I'd really like to finish this series, but I'm probably only half way done with this book, and then there were supposed to be two other books, the last of which I haven't thought of _at all._ Thus, I don't know what to do. I just wanted to cheer up the people who have decided to follow me. I hope this will make some of you feel better today.

Yours The Author, signing off.


	7. Chapter 6: Trying to be the Duchess

I said last time not to expect an update any time soon. Now I _really_ mean it.

(Also thanks rwbygirl, you're awesome.)

* * *

Chapter 6: Trying to be the Duchess

Duchess Katharina's bedroom, or what I assumed to be her room, was more richly decorated than the rest of the castle. The carpet was a brownish red color with dark flower patterns, the walls were more cream than yellow, and the bed was big and fluffy looking. Despite waking up only a half hour before, I wanted nothing more than to flop onto that bed and snuggle in. However, this was not what I'd been assigned a maid for.

I followed the maid to a closet in the corner of the room. Inside were multiple dresses of varying styles and colors, as well as outfits of fancy looking shorts and shirts. Perhaps this was why no one thought my plain looking attire was odd.

The maid gestured to the gowns, as if to allow me to pick one of my choosing. I felt through the dresses, trying to find one that would fit my tastes. _Too low. Too fancy. Too plain._

I paused at a kimono looking dress, colored forest green with bright pink and purple decals. At one point, I had liked this color combination quite a bit, much to my older sister's chagrin. I still kind of liked it.

On the sleeve of the kimono was a tag that read, "Für Herzogin Katharina. Auf Kokona Haruka.*"

I glanced at the maid, who had a sick look on her face. When our eyes met, she forced a laugh. "Ha ha... sehr komish, mein Frau. Bitte, nicht dieses Kleid."

I nodded knowingly and moved on to the other dresses. _Also too low. Also too fancy. Hmm..._

I stopped again at a familiar looking dress. It was black with spaghetti straps. The top was covered in shiny black beading while the bottom was pinned up slightly, like Belle's dress from Beauty and the Beast. It reminded me of the dress I had worn to a military ball a few months before. _What a coincidence,_ I thought.

I pulled the gown off its hanger and held it out for the maid to see. She clapped her hands and sighed, probably in relief, then walked me to a door on the adjacent wall, which lead to a creamy yellow bathroom. She shut the door behind me. Apparently, Katharina didn't require someone to dress her, which was fine by me. I pulled off my t-shirt and shorts and put on the dress. It fit perfectly, though I couldn't quite reach the zipper.

I knocked on the door quietly and turned my back to the maid when she entered. She zipped me in, and then held up a pair of Mary-Jane like shoes. I reached to take them, but she pulled me out of the bathroom and sat me on the bed. She took off my flip flops and buckled my feet in.

"Danke," I said near automatically.

The maid looked up at me, seemingly confused. "Ist alle in Ordnung, mein Frau?" she asked.

 _Is everything okay?_ I translated. "Ja. Warum?" I replied, a bit sharply.

The maid lowered her head quickly. "Nichts, nichts. Es tut mir Leid."

I stood up when she finished and brushed off the front of my dress. I felt pretty, but that meant it was only a matter of time until-

Another maid burst into the room. "Mein Herzogin, der Kanzler is hier!"

I took a deep breath and made my hands into fists. "It's time," I said quietly.

The first maid nodded. "You will do well, my lady," she said confidently. I nodded back and gripped the skirt of my dress, following both maids out of the room.

 ** _*Two minutes of walking down the hallway later*_**

 _Please-speak-English-please-speak-English-please-speak-English-_ I thought as I entered the room.

This room was pristine and white, with a high ceiling and a marble floor. Hanging from the ceiling was a crystal chandelier with light bulbs shaped like candle flames. I gazed at it, near mesmerized, before I snapped myself to attention. It was time for espionage.

I was flanked on both sides by the two maids, and the butler looking man from before was speaking to someone. The butler noticed them trying to peer over his shoulder and turned around; nodding at who he thought was his duchess. "She is here," he said, stepping aside to let them see.

 _Yep. That's him,_ I thought tensely.

The chancellor was the near spitting image of the Viscount of Druitt from Black Butler, with long blonde hair, caramel brown eyes, and a curl coming off the left side of his head. He was wearing a white suit with a red tie, and he held his arms open wide, smiling.

 _Handsome, but off-putting,_ I decided. I gripped my skirt tighter, held my head straight, and walked to greet him.

"Ah, Duchessa Katharina!" he exclaimed. "How beautiful to see you in person, si?"

"Si—ja," I corrected myself quickly, and curtseyed to him properly, keeping my head low. He seemed not to have noticed my slip up. "It is... nice to meet you, too."

"Come, come," he said. "There is no need to be so formal with me. Come, let us east and discuss our... business." He laughed lightheartedly, took my hand, and kissed it.

 _Oh my,_ I thought, gently pulling my hand away and gazing at it. I'd never been kissed by a stranger before.

I blinked and shook my hand out, gesturing to a nearby small round table with two metal chairs. I reached to pull out the closest chair to me when the butler stopped me. He pulled the chair out for me and pushed me in when I sat. This, the chancellor noticed.

"It is just as your sister said; you are a headstrong girl. I like a woman who does things on her own." He laughed again as the butler pushed his seat in. "We knew you'd be perfect for this... special business."

"We?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the plate of salad and three forks the butler placed in front of me. I took the fork on the outer edge and ate quietly. That foods and manners class from middle school seemed to be coming in handy.

"Si, the cult and I."

My hand stopped in midair and I stared at my fork. Another cult?

"It is a beautiful day in your Prussia," he leaned over the small table, "perfect to initiate our sacrifice."

Uh-oh.

I set my fork down and took a deep breath. "Ja, I agree," I bluffed, "but please, running a country is hard and I lose track of things. Would you tell me again what will happen today?" Maybe I could get some information out of him yet.

"Si, of course," the chancellor said, eating his salad casually. "It is just as our 'special ones' have said. Now that the one who calls himself Feliciano has been found, we can complete our ritual!"

 _'Special ones'?_ I thought. _Wait. Feli!_

"The other world leaders will be here soon, and then we can begin the ceremony."

"If the others are coming later, why did you come here first?" I asked, and then stuffed a lettuce leaf in my mouth because I had spoken too sharply.

The chancellor winked at me. "I wanted to be the first to lay eyes on the reclusive Duchessa Katharina, si?"

 _Golly,_ I thought, _he sure is laying it on thick, huh?_

"The people don't know the other leaders are coming..." I heard myself say quietly. In goes another bite of salad.

The chancellor nodded and smiled sheepishly. "Ah, that is probably my fault. I knew the meeting of world leaders was supposed to be a secret, but I got so excited when we heard from you that word spread around both of our countries."

"Huh," I said. I had no idea on how to respond to that. Unfortunately, I was out of salad. The butler took my plate and fork away and handed them to one of the maids, who left eh room with it. I felt a sense of urgency without my salad to occupy me. I needed to find out where Feli was, or at least learn what this cult was planning to do to him.

"So, what will we be doing with this... Feliciano?" I asked.

The chancellor frowned. "Did I not tell you already? Do not tell me you forgot..."

Whoops.

"I'm forgetful, okay?!" I cried desperately. The chancellor leaned back in surprise. I put my hands in my lap and kept my head down. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. The chancellor waved me off and laughed again.

"No, no, it is fine! Even someone as beautiful as you has flaws, si?"

 _Back off, Romeo,_ I thought. The butler was looking at me oddly. Why did everyone keep looking at me like that?

"You do not have to lie to me," the chancellor continued, "I know the _real_ reason you're so feisty today."

 _Uh-oh,_ I thought again. Had he realized I wasn't the duchess?

"You are just nervous! There is no need to be coy about it! After all," he leaned close to me again, "we _are_ both dying today."

... Oh, no.

The door slammed open and I jumped in my seat. The chancellor looked at the door, then back at me, no longer smiling. "Who is that?" he asked.

I looked, and saw a woman dressed in a long dark gray dress with a V-neck that revealed a solid black kirtle, a pair of glasses hanging around her neck, and an angry, angry look on her face.

Oh, _no._

" _What_ is going on here?" Duchess Katharina yelled. "I leave you dummköpfe alone for _two hours_ , and _this_ is what happens?" she jabbed a finger in my direction. "Who do you think you are?"

The two maids and the butler were looking back and forth, seeming to be genuinely confused. The chancellor was staring at me, as if waiting for my response.

 _Think,_ I thought, _how would royalty react?_ In a rare moment of clarity, I thought back: _Coolly. Calmly. Regally._ I took a deep breath, stood from my seat, and looked the furious duchess in the eye. " _I_ am the Duchess Katharina. Who are _you?_ "

The duchess growled, moments from foaming at the mouth. "You _dare_ to pretend to be me?"

"I should be asking you that," I replied. "Who are _you_ to be interrupting my business with the chancellor?"

"Interupting—business—" I realized that the duchess had literal steam coming out of her ears. What an odd time for an anime trope. She turned her rage to the chancellor. " _What have you been telling her?!"_

 _There's no way I'm going to win this,_ I thought. I needed to get out of there, fast. Weren't the other nations supposed to be here by now, disguised as guards or something?

The duchess reached behind her back and pulled out a knife. Uh-oh. She lunged at me and I dodged to the side. She turned and swung the knife down at my head. I caught her by the arm and we struggled for control.

I was about to die. I was _very_ much certain of it. I needed to wrestle the knife away from the duchess before I took off, but how? I had no physical strength to speak of. I clenched my eyes shut. I kept pushing the duchess away from me. I felt a familiar tug in my gut, and—

" _What_ is the meaning of this?" Mari slammed the door open, and the feeling in my stomach faded as quickly as it came.

The duchess and I turned to her. "Mari!" We cried at once. Katharina lowered her knife.

Several guards rushed in behind Mari, none of whom I recognized. Mari stopped a few feet away from the duchess and I, looking between us.

"Don't tell me that _you_ are fooled by this imposter!" Katharina cried, speaking my thoughts.

"Mari," I said, trying to keep calm. "You _know_ I'm the real duchess. _You_ can tell us apart!"

"Ja," Katharina said, nodding. "Settle this for us: which of us is the real Katharina?"

 _I'm going to die,_ I thought. There was no way Mari would mistake me for her sister. We were too different, though that hadn't stopped the castle staff. Maybe I'd get lucky and Mari would think _I_ was the real duchess.

She looked between the two of us one more time, then took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "Okay," she said. "Here's how I will tell who my real sister is." She opened her eyes and looked us in the eye. "When is my birthday?"

"I don't care," Katharina said almost immediately, before I could speak.

"Um..." I had a hard enough time remembering my _own_ sister's birthday; how was I supposed to know Mari's? I picked the first date off of the top of my head. "July twenty... third?"

Mari nodded slowly, quiet for a few moments. Then, she pointed at me. "That girl is a fake." She lowered her gaze. "My real sister doesn't care enough to know my birthday."

"Wait, what?" I cried in disbelief. The Prussian blue garbed guards grabbed me and put my arms behind my back, dragging me to the door. "That's messed up!" I looked between Mari and Katharina.

Mari was still looking down. Katharina glared at me, and then turned to the chancellor. "We will discuss this later," she said, and the guards shut the door as I was dragged away.

* * *

*Kokona Haruka is the name of the placeholder rival from Yandere Simulator (Which I don't own). It's also now the name of the leader of Japan in this world.

* * *

I suppose you could say that this is the climax before the climax. Unfortunatley, I haven't thought of the real climax yet. Yeah, I know, I suck, weh.

A lot of character development for background characters today, particularly the duchess. Does she really not care about her sister? Or is it a disguise? You'll be stuck with your brain squirming around your head, sobbing and begging for answers that might not come for a long time.

Also, these "Special Ones"? Who or what are those? Make a guess with a review!

I'll see you later, hopefully. Really, that's what I hope for. But August 19th, the day I leave for college, is coming quick, and I don't know if I'll have time to write or even think about the plot. I'm sorry.


	8. Chapter 7: Trying to Pass the Time

What's this? A chapter? It's been _oh, so loooooong!_ Hey, I'm back. Whee.

Here's the leadup to the climax… which I haven't really thought of much at all, though still more than the final book for the cult series. Pathetic, isn't it?

Consider this an early Christma-Hana-Kwanza gift. I want to get as many chapters done as possible before winter break ends, so you'll hopefully at least one more chapter before the new year. Here's to a good one, and hopefully a good end to this story. See you at the bottom of the page.

* * *

Chapter 7: Trying to Pass the Time

The good news: I got my clothes back.

The bad news: I got locked in a dungeon first.

The guards shoved me into a black bricked cell with metal bars, slamming the door behind me. One of the guards pushed my shirt, shorts, and flip flops through the bars, saying, "The duchess wants her dress back."

 _Fair enough,_ I thought, taking the clothes and turning away from the guard. I managed to pull the zipper down enough to wriggle out of the dress and put my real clothes back on. I turned around to hand the dress and shoes back to the guard. Kindly, he had turned away while I was changing, so I pushed the dress through the bar he would most likely see. He yanked the dress out of my hands and stormed away. I expected as much.

Then, the weight of the situation hit me. I had failed the instructions Britany had given me, and I was nowhere closer to knowing what happened to Feli than I was before. I was going to get in trouble with everyone else, if I didn't get killed first for impersonating the duchess. This sucked.

"This sucks," I muttered aloud.

"Tell me about it," a voice said. Wait…

"Feli?"

"Author?" The voice was suddenly full of hope. I hurried to the bars at the front of my cell and reached an arm out in the direction I thought the voice was coming from. Another arm with a long brown suit sleeve reached towards me from the cell next to mine. "Author, is that you?"

"Yes!" I cried. "Feli! I'm so sorry!"

"What for, bella?"

I grazed his hand with mine. "I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough to get you before those guys took you! I'm sorry I failed on this mission to come rescue you! It wasn't supposed to end up like this…"

"Author," Feli said. "You don't have to apologize for anything. None of what happened was in your control. To be honest, I'm just glad there's someone else with me right now."

"Have you been eating?" I asked. "It has been over a day since I last saw you…"

"No, not even a plate of pasta. Not that I'm really interested in pasta anymore, after… that place."

"Right, right," I said. What would be a better topic to talk about to get his mind off that? "Got anything fun to do around here?" I asked, half-jokingly.

"Not really, but I found some chalk."

"Ooh, have you been drawing?"

"A little. Do you want to try?"

"Really? Wow, thanks."

Feli's arm disappeared for moment. While it was away, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a tissue. Cleanliness before dirtiness, after all. His arm reappeared and I took the stub of white chalk. I squatted on the floor and drew an eye.

"We met another Brittany," I offered suddenly.

"Brittany? As in another girl named Britany?"

"More than that. She looks a lot like our Brittany. Now that I think about it, it's kind of weird that there are alternate versions of me, my sister, and Brittany in this world. What do you think is up with that?"

"Alternate versions…" Feli said quietly. I drew the letters V, F, and D into the eye.*

"Feli? You okay?" I drew a star, a heart, and a horseshoe.**

"… Author, I think I know what this place is…"

"You mean this castle?"

"No, I mean this universe… Author, I—"

The sound of a door slamming open caused me to jump from my squat and fall on my rear. I looked up to see the Duchess Katharina and two guards walk in. She spoke some quick German to the guards, who opened the cell next to me. "Feli!" I yelped.

"Author!" Feli cried back. I watched as Feli was dragged out of the cell before the guards pulled him down the hall of cells and out of sight. Katharina watched them go, before turning to me.

"Wait," I cried tiredly. I had just reunited with the nicest guy I had met on this journey, and now he was gone again. "What exactly are you going to do with him?"

"That is none of your business, dummkopf." Katharina snapped She began to flap one hand, as if to give herself something to do while speaking with me. "I have come to tell you this: as soon as my work is done with your friend, you will die as well."

"You're going to kill him?!" I stood up and gripped the bars. Katharina didn't flinch. "You can't do that!"

"I will, and I must. It is as the special ones have told us world leaders. Our world will be transformed, and with our deaths, a new race will take over the world."

"Wait…" I pondered a moment. "You're dying too? But why? What's this prophesy thing? Who are the special ones? What is this new race? What—"

"I will not answer any of your questions. Just know that your death is fast approaching. I thought I would offer you the kindness of knowing, not that you deserve it."

She turned to the right and walked in the same direction as the guards before.

"One more thing," I called after her. "Why do you hate your sister?"

Katharina slowed. Her hand flapped harder. "…You know. _Nothing._ " She continued down the hall and a door slammed behind her. I was all alone.

 ***Five minutes later…***

I had tried calling out to the other cells I knew were in the room, but the lack of response seemed to indicate that no one else was locked up. Hadn't Brittany said that a lot of people had been arrested, though? Perhaps they were locked up somewhere else. That left little for me to do other than draw on the floor.

At first, I simply drew some basic shapes: triangles, squares, circles. Then, I felt the need to draw something more elaborate. I drew a large circle on the floor, away from the other drawings. Then I drew some lines in the circle, then some sections. I then found my mind wandering as I drew, no longer focusing on what I produced.

 _Why did I have to be the one who did the hard work?_ I whined in my head. _Why did Ludwig make me do something he knew I wouldn't be good at? Why couldn't have I helped with the protest thing, or the guard thing that Brittany talked about that I don't remember anything about?_

 _That's probably why,_ I thought back. _You don't remember the important things, and you can't do anything at all, so Ludwig probably had little choice with what to do with you. You couldn't stop Katharina from taking Feli away, and now you're all alone. You deserve what happens next._

"What happens next?" I mumbled quietly.

"We save you, of course."

I jumped from my squat on the floor and fell on my rear again. I looked up and saw some soldiers dressed in Prussian blue uniforms. Wait…

"Guys?" I said hopefully. One of the guard's hair twitched a little, and suddenly a single curl of hair appeared, bouncing in the nonexistent wind. "Alfred?"

Alfred gave me a thumbs-up. "We're here to save you, Author! And Feli, too!"

The other guards were wearing hats, and took them off. One of the guards tussled her short blonde hair, not that there was much to tussle. "Brittany!" I cried.

Brittany waggled a finger at me. "Don't sound so happy to see me, lass. I'm peeved that you didn't follow my instructions to the letter."

My smile slid off my face. "…Oh." I lowered my gaze.

"Hey, I was just—I'm not _actually_ mad, okay? I was just messing with you! Don't be so sensitive!"

I nodded solemnly… Then I remembered something. "Wait, I didn't totally fail you!"

"I'm not saying you failed me—"

"I learned some information as the duchess!"

Brittany perked up. "Really? Like what?"

I stood up and brushed off my shorts, dropping the chalk. "I learned that the duchess doesn't like her sister, for starters!"

Brittany nodded solemnly. "That poor Mari. I figured as much. What else did you learn?"

"I learned that the other world leaders are coming to Prussia!"

Brittany's eyes widened. "They're coming? When?"

"Today! And… oh no." My eyes widened, too. "We have to find Feli right now!"

"Do you know where he went?" Lovino asked.

I pointed down the hall to my right. "They took him that way, but I don't know where from there. They're going to kill him!"

The countries looked at each other in alarm. "They can't kill him! That'd be impossible!" Gilbert hissed quietly.

"It's happened before, who's to say it can't happen now? We have to be careful with ourselves!" Mathew hissed back.

Brittany took the keys off the wall near my cell and opened the door. "I don't know what you blokes are talking about, but we have to hurry if we're going to save your friend!"

"Yes!" I hurried out of the cell. "We've got to go, now!"

"Wait." Arthur peered into my cell. "What's that on the floor?"

"Just some drawings I made with some chalk," I said impatiently.

"No, I mean that one." Arthur pointed to the last drawing I had been working on. I looked, and the once simple drawing had become an elaborate circle full of shapes and scribbles that seemed to resemble words.

"Huh…" I said. "I don't know how that ended up like that. I was thinking about other things when I drew it. Why?"

Arthur stepped into the cell and looked down at the shape. After a second, he took out a smart phone and snapped a picture of the circle. I had never seen an anime character use a phone like that before, so it was rather odd. He put his phone away. "Okay, _now_ we can go."

 _What was that about?_ I wondered.

"What was that about?" Brittany asked.

"Something I'll be looking at when all of this is done. For now, let's go save Feliciano."

"Right!" we all said.

"Wait, we might need weapons," I said suddenly. Alfred handed me a pistol from seemingly nowhere.

"We're all taken care of, Author," he said with a wink.

"Alright, team," Brittany said, cocking her own gun. "Let's do this!"

We all headed for the door.

 ***Elsewhere***

Feliciano was on the floor. He felt as though his arms were rubber, dripping onto the ground around him and on the chains on his wrists. His head ached as if he had done nothing put lie around and take siestas all day. His stomach was empty.

The room was dim and flickered with the firelight from a small bonfire before him. There was a black pot over the fire, bubbling with some strange concoction. Eyes seemed to peer through the darkness at him. He hadn't felt so watched since he entered the mansion for the second time.

All around him, twelve people stood silently. They were all dressed fancily, in distinct styles of their own country. One of the people suddenly stepped forward. He spread his arms wide, and said in an Italian accent, "World leaders, we have gathered here to summon the next age! An age of the domination of a superior species! The humans of this world will cease to exist, and the demons will rise! We will be the first to die for this new world, and though we will not live to see this age, we will be remembered as the ones who brought the world to it's rightful state! We are… the cult of Steve!"

 _That's a stupid name,_ Feliciano thought. The shadowy figures clapped quietly.

The Italian man continued: "We world leaders will now step forward and initiate the sacrifice necessary to bring Steve back. Then, he will enjoy his first meal; the one who evaded his claws for so long: Feliciano Vargas!"

 _Seriously, who is Steve?_ Feliciano's thoughts were interrupted with a scream. The Italian man from earlier had stepped forward, set his hands on the pot's burning brim and jumped into the pot, sinking past the bottom and out of this life.

The darkness became more intense, and Feliciano felt something cold grip his throat. He felt ill, like fear was squirming and squelching in his stomach. "Per favore fermata!" He heard himself cry out.

They did not stop.

Another man stepped forward and did the same. The darkness grew colder.

A woman in a delicate kimono came forward. The fire's smoke became thicker, making it difficult to breathe.

Another woman came up.

Another man.

Another woman.

A man.

A man.

A woman.

A man.

A woman.

Finally, there was only one girl left, dressed in a long, dark gray dress with a V-neck that revealed a solid black kirtle. The Duchess Katharina was trembling.

"Smettere…" Feli whispered. "Per favore…"

Katharina gripped at the rim of the pot. Her hands burned and her face twisted with pain, but she held fast. The void behind her seemed to flicker light gray reflections. The duchess took a deep breath, pushed herself up, and got into the pot. She sank almost immediately. The pot seemed only two feet deep, but she was flushed beyond the bottom, hands outstretched and expressing what her melted mouth could not.

The reflections on the other side of the fire grew stronger and solid. Dread and realization sank its fangs into Feliciano's heart.

The monster sneered and whispered, **YOU… WON'T… ESCAPE…**

* * *

*This is a reference to A Series of Unfortunate Events. Minor Spoiler, but you probably already know, if you've read the series.

** This is a reference to Problem Sleuth and Homestuck. In Problem Sleuth, it's a phone number the character calls. In Homestuck, it's a romance combination for leprechauns.

Who saw this ending coming? Was it shocking, even remotely?

I drew inspiration for this scene from the beginning of Doctor Who: The End of Time: Part One. I have the climax of the story based of the Cyberman episodes from season two, which I can't remember the names of. The Age of Steel, and something else.

I worked on this chapter for about two days, not back to back. I feel like I could have done better, but I just want to get this out to you while I still have free time.

Also, I have a new poll on my profile. For my college Creative Writing class, I wrote a short story that occurs before the cult series begins, taking place in this world in The Cult of Steve. However, it has a major spoiler that you might have figured out in this chapter, but it's practically handed to you in the one shot. So the options are either to publish the one shot right away, so you have something to digest while I continue The Cult of Steve, or finish The Cult of Steve first, then publish the one shot. It's up to you, but I think I know which option I want to do.

Stick around for more action and death, and I hope to see you again. Tschuss!


	9. Chapter 8: Trying to Escape

Okay, this is a short one. And don't worry, rwbygirl, Feli won't die. There _will_ be more death, though. Just not right now.

The power went out at my college, so I've been doing nothing all say but typing and napping. I hope you like this one, despite its length. See you at the bottom of the page.

* * *

Chapter 8: Trying to Escape

 **YOU…WON'T…ESCAPE…!** The monster repeated, a sneer spreading on its gray, thin lips.

 _No…_ Feliciano was trembling, yet he couldn't muster the courage to struggle in his chains. The monster stepped closer in a single, giant stride. It reached a clawed hand towards the shaking Italian, and—

"Nah-nope-not-happening-nope-nuh-uh-nope!" I shouted as Alfred, Yao, Francis, Kiku and I slid to a stop between Feli and the monster, cocked our guns, and blasted the beast in the forehead. The other countries swarmed Feli and wrenched the chains off of his wrists. Ludwig and Lovino hoisted Feli's arms over their shoulders and ran as fast as they could towards the way we had come. Alfred shot the monster once more before gesturing for the rest of us to follow him. The monster's roar faded the farther we ran, but it was still loud enough to make the cell bars shake.

"What the bloody heck was that?!" Brittany yelled.

I was still noping, so Gilbert said, "That's the monster that tried to kill all of us!"

"What?!" Brittany began to slow, but Ivan grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her after him. "You lot better start explaining; there was no talk about monsters in our agreement to rescue your friend!"

Yao, who was running as slowly as I was, reached over and smacked me in the back of the head. "Stop noping!" he yelled.

"No!" I shot back.

"We didn't know there'd be any monsters here!" Antonio answered Brittany. "We thought they had all been killed weeks ago!"

"Weeks?" Brittany pried at Ivan's grip, but he didn't let go. "As soon as we out run that thing, you're all explaining _everything_!"

"Deal!" We all shouted.

I tried to keep pace with everyone while trying to think. _Is this what Katharina meant by "a new race"? Why would anyone want to replace humans with these things? Am I going to have to kill monsters again? Are there more monsters coming than just the one we saw? Wait... is Katharina dead? Is the alternate me… dead?_ I somehow slowed even more, but Yao grabbed my hand and pulled me after him.

"Why are you slowing down?!" He asked.

"I'm trying to think!" I cried.

"DON'T THINK; RUN!" Everyone yelled.

We burst out of the prison room and dashed up the stairs. The monster's echoes had faded even more, but I could still feel the tremor in my heart, which was not a comfortable feeling.

"Halt!" Just as we entered the hall on the first floor from the stairs, a row of guards in Prussian blue uniforms stood holding guns in our direction. We skidded to a stop. One guard with metal star badges on his jacket was pointing at us. "Ich erkenne keinen von euch! Was sind deine Namen und Nummern?"

Brittany was not giving a darn what the soldiers had to say. "Not now, wanker! There's a monster on the loose! Now, move!" The guards looked at each other, baffled by this British girl giving orders. Then, they began to snicker.

"Es gibt keine Monster, Mädchen!" The apparent leader of the soldiers laughed. "Antworte jetzt meine Fragen!

"Wir lügen nicht!" Ludwig and Gilbert yelled back. "Es ist im das Gefängnis!"

Suddenly, there was another roar, this one much closer than before. I nearly dropped my gun in surprise. The guards lowered their guns in shock.

Two monsters broke through the door from the stairs. I let out a scream and fired the gun way off from the target. The guards began yelling and started shooting over our heads at the monster's bodies. I gripped the gun again with as much assurance as I could muster. "Aim for the foreheads!" I called to the guards, hoping they'd understand. The countries made a dash for the hall behind the guards and I followed suit. The guards didn't seem to notice, continuing to fire their guns at the threats looming before them.

 _I hope they're okay…_ I thought as I ran behind the others. We continued running through the tiled halls, turning left and right and up and down, until those words lost their meaning. Just as I was beginning to feel the fear energy drain out of my body, another voice called out, "Halt!"

"Oh, _now_ what?" Brittany moaned, turning around to the sound of the voice. We turned with her.

"…Oh," I said quietly. Mari was standing behind us. She did not look happy.

"Where is my sister?" She asked firmly. Her hands were shaking fists. "You, imposter!" She pointed at me. "Wo ist meine kleine Shwester?"

I looked from side to side at the countries, hoping one of them would say it. When no one did, I slowly turned to Mari, who was looking at me expectantly. "Katharina is… dead," I finally managed. "She sacrificed herself to create monsters. I know that sounds strange, but—"

"Nein," Mari whispered. "Nein… nein… NEIN!" Mari sank to her knees and began to sob. I covered my mouth with my free hand and looked at the ground, a few tears of my own slipping down my cheeks. I don't know what the other countries were doing, but I found myself drifting towards the weeping royal. I gingerly reached my hand towards her—

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Mari screamed, smacking my hand away. "You did this, didn't you?! Because of you, meine kleine Schwester… meine besondere Schwester…" She scrubbed furiously at her tears. "Nein… You're lying, aren't you?! You're saying this because… because…!"

"I'm not lying," I found myself choking on the words. "The Chancellor told me. They all died, all the world leaders. It was part of some plan, to bring these monsters to life. We're going to fight them," I gestured behind me without looking away from Mari. "I don't know how else to say this to you. Feli was there, he can tell you."

"It's true," Feli's voice said behind me. "Your sister killed herself, along with eleven other people. It was horrible."

Mari looked from where I assumed Feli was, back to me. Her eyes were still clear, in true anime fashion, but that didn't keep tears from forming at the corners of her eyes. She slowly stood up and brushed off the front of her dress. "I know what to do," she said quietly. I cocked my head to the side. "I will learn the truth from my sister herself."

"How?" I asked.

"That's none of your business, imposter." She turned around and ran to the nearest hallway, disappearing from sight. I watched her go, reaching out my free hand in her direction.

Someone else's hand set itself on my shoulder. I turned and saw Feli standing next to me. The shock of seeing the monster seemed to have worn off. Now, he just looked tired. "You did your best, bella," he said. "But we have to go now, before the monsters catch up."

I nodded solemnly, wiped the last of tears from my face, and followed Feli. We all ran down a different hallway, reached the exit, and ran as fast as we could from the castle back to the city.

* * *

Yep. Really short. About two to three pages in length. Aren't you proud of me?

I plan to keep writing during the month of December, while I have free time. Maybe I'll get lucky and finish the whole story before Jan Term starts up. Wouldn't that be an accomplishment?

Also, there's still the poll on my profile, so vote if you haven't already! Tell me what you think will happen next time, and I'll see you all later. Until then!


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